A/N:

Chapter 2!

I hope you like it—it was fun to write :)


Chapter 2: Headmasters and Hospital Wings

As the famed Boy-Who-Lived passed out after his sorting, the hall quieted their mutterings instantly, shocked, and Ron Weasley, said boy's new friend, looked crestfallen at his collapse. The school's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, stood quickly and made his way over to the fallen boy.

Snapping his fingers, Albus called out, "Mipsy!" and the elf popped into existence next to the prone child, who stirred minutely at the small show of magic. Frowning, Albus took out his wand, which was old-looking and made of elder wood, and made a few sharp motions, silently casting several simple diagnostic charms.

"Please, Mipsy, take him to Poppy," Albus implored the elf.

"Yessir, I be doing that right away, Master Dumbly!" the excitable little elf assured her master, placing a small, gnarled hand on the unconscious boy's chest, popping them away.

Albus stood and faced the hall of unusually quiet students and cleared his throat. Not that it had been necessary, as their attention had already been firmly on him. "Mr. Potter seems to be facing a severe case of magical exhaustion. Do not worry, as he will be awake and able in a few short hours. Professor McGonagall will now continue the sorting," he explained calmly, gesturing to Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress as his powerful voice carried throughout the massive hall. The few who were close enough to see noticed that the ever-present twinkle was absent from the aged Headmaster's eyes.

Nodding, he turned and picked up the discarded Sorting Hat, and handed it back to Minerva, ignoring the Hat's whisper that no, Harry Potter was certainly not facing a case of magical exhaustion. Albus frowned at the hat, conveying that it wasn't new information to him. As he sat down and the sorting continued, he contemplated the unearthly readings his diagnostic picked up from the boy.


Harry meditated.

I am with the Force, the Force is withme.

It was a mantra, one oft-repeated within his mind while he meditated, furthering his connection with the Force. At the moment, he was in some sort of medical wing, a massive room with multiple beds, yet not a single droid.

When he had awoken, there was a woman, certainly Force-sensitive, yet her mind was like an open book. She was worried for him, he sensed, because she knew his parents. This startled him, and he almost jerked but managed to avoid revealing that he had awakened. How did she know his parents? He didn't even know his parents. The only one who knew their identity was Master Plo Koon, and this woman was certainly not Plo Koon.

Perhaps she is untrained, he mused before slipping into a meditative trance that would force his body to mimic sleep while he unraveled the peculiarities of his situation.

I am with the Force, the Force is with me.

He stretched his senses as far as he could before suddenly stopping. The planet he was on, Earth, the Force supplied handily, was either isolated or alone. He could not sense any other planets with life. This was a sobering thought. He likely wasn't even in the outer rim. He was further than that, perhaps even in another galaxy, as his Force senses even surpassed those of Master Yoda, a point of pride for him in his youth. If he could not sense life forms on other planets, there were no life forms on other planets. Perhaps it was hubris, but his senses had never failed him before, except for in the face of the shroud of the Dark Side.

Limiting his senses to the planet he was on gave him insight into many things.

The first being that this was a very primitive society. Clearly confined to a single planet and without any means to explore farther. It was a world split into many separate governments, only united by a body known as the United Nations, a moniker that seemed inadequate, unfit for an entity that didn't encompass all the nations, and not descriptive in the slightest.

Secondly, it was an extremely large planet, dwarfing Coruscant and several other Inner Rim planets. It held a staggering number of sentients, nearly five and a half billion. Too much for a single planet, in his opinion. There were many natural resources, however, and a wonderfully large body of water that spanned nearly seventy-one percent of the planet's surface.

Thirdly, kriff, there was an absolutely massive population of Force-sensitives for a single planet. Being such an underdeveloped planet, however, they called it magic, which Harry thought was ignorant. He discovered that he was currently inside an educational institution for young Force-sensitives dubbed Hogwarts (what a strange name). There was a government in place, known as the International Confederation of Wizards, or ICW for short, along with several subsidiary governments such as the British Ministry of Magic and the Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA).

I am with the Force, the Force is with me.

Several hours later, after he felt he was satisfactorily acquainted with the environment he had found himself in, he exited his meditative trance. His eyes blinked open, and he found himself alone.

Sighing in relief, he began inspecting himself, remembering the smallness of his body when he first awoke. After a cursory examination, he sighed again, but this time in defeat. He was but a youngling again, he was himself as he remembered in his eleventh year of life. Reaching into the pocket of the robes he wore (he did not appreciate the dark color scheme, he was a Jedi, not a Sith), he pulled out his lightsaber. Inspecting it, he found nothing amiss, in fact, it felt almost more in tune with him than before. Pressing the ignition switch, he smiled as the familiar blue blade of energy sprung from its confines with a snap-hiss.

Getting up from the bed, he moved to the center of the room, and settled into Form III, Soresu, and practiced the general motions in his smaller form. The lightsaber was a familiar weight in his hand and he swung with the same precision and strength as before. Good, he thought, this hasn't impeded my skills.

He deactivated his lightsaber and sat on the bed, quietly waiting for someone to enter the room, which wasn't much of a wait. An old man with a dark red and gold robe and the largest white beard he had ever seen on a human walked into the medical wing, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

"Ah, Harry," he said with a warm smile. "It's very nice to see you awake."

Harry crooked an eyebrow at the unfamiliar man, yet noted that he was one of the most powerful Force-sensitives he had ever seen, and he was so light. "It's nice to see a friendly face after so many years. However, if I may, who are you?"

The man frowned at the many years comment. "Why, Harry, I am the Headmaster of this fine establishment, Albus Dumbledore."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Well met, Albus Dumbledore." Had he not already grasped the particulars of his situation, he would have asked the seemingly influential man why he was here.

Dumbledore frowned at him, and Harry could tell what he was thinking. Why is this boy speaking in such a manner? The truth was that Harry needed someone as a reference in this new world. Despite what information he had already gathered, he would never have time to fully understand the cultures and the customs of this strange new world without assistance. He was sounding Dumbledore out, testing the waters, so to speak, to see if he could be trusted. Oh, Harry knew this man was undeniably for the Light, yet there were many faults that lied in that path, though they were not as numerous as the dangers of the Dark.

"Why do you speak in such a manner, my boy? You look as if you are in a place unknown to you, almost like the magic of this very place is not familiar with you."

Harry sighed, his shoulders slumping almost imperceptibly. He had not expected the man to catch on that quickly. Perhaps he was judging Dumbledore too quickly. Deciding to tell the truth, given he hated lying anyway, he began to speak. "What you say is true, Albus Dumbledore. This place is as foreign to me as the harsh climates of Dathomir. I always hated that place."

Dumbledore smiled bemusedly. "I am afraid I do not understand."

Harry waved his confusion off. "I thought not. You see, I believe that I am very far from home. Are you familiar with the mind arts, Albus Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore's expression hardened for a moment, and in those few seconds, Harry realized that this was a very dangerous man. "What do you know of the mind arts?" Dumbledore asked, his voice deceptively pleasant.

"Look into my mind, Albus Dumbledore, you will find the answer to your question inside," Harry said, taking down his shields and showing the magnificence of the galaxy to the man standing in front of him.

A few minutes later, Dumbledore stumbled backward, and Harry's shields snapped back into place.

There was silence for a few, tense moments.

"You have traveled far, Master Jedi," Dumbledore said softly, sympathetically, sitting down next to Harry. "You will be given shelter here. If I may ask one favor of you, may I examine that wonderful weapon you carry?"

Harry gave Dumbledore a long, hard look, trying to sense any ill-intent, but found none. "You may." He handed Dumbledore the lightsaber and watched as the man stood and pressed the switch.

Snap-hiss!

"Marvelous," Dumbledore breathed, peering closely at the energy. "Ingenious. Such a curious little thing, aren't you... Harry, I believe that this can be changed from a wand to what it is now based on your intent."

"A wand?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Would you like a demonstration?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly, switching off the lightsaber.

Harry nodded, shocked once more.

Dumbledore seemed to concentrate for a moment, and the lightsaber shifted and twisted until it was something else altogether. "This is a wand," Dumbledore said, swishing around the lightsaber, which was now a small thin stick of alloy metal, maybe just short of a foot long. As Dumbledore swished it, a small flock of birds flew out of the end of the wand.

"How is such a thing possible?" Harry asked, trying to feel in the Force what the Headmaster just did.

"Magic," Dumbledore said happily, eyes twinkling brighter than usual.

Harry made a harrumph sort of noise. "I bet you loved saying that," he snarked.

Dumbledore let out a deep chuckle, sounding deliriously happy.

Harry leaned forward eagerly. "I would like to learn from you, Albus Dumbledore," Harry declared, feeling excitement for the first time in many years. "It has been quite some time since I was a student. I eagerly await being one once more."

"Call me Albus, Harry," Dumbledore said. "It is customary for friends to call each other by their given names, after all."

Harry was shocked. "Oh, don't be so surprised," Dumbledore said, smiling widely, "Though you may be young in body, you are my peer in mind."

"I was expecting to be very lonely here," Harry admitted. "Too mentally old to befriend those close to me in physical age, too physically young to befriend those close to me in mental age."

"It is my pleasure, Harry, after all, I haven't had a true peer since I was a youth myself. We can learn from each other," the newly christened Albus said. "You can teach me the ways of the Force, and I can teach you how to do magic closer to your level."

"Deal," Harry said instantly. The pull to become a student once more was not only his own desires, he felt, but also the will of the Force. "First, though, I believe it necessary for me to learn how to switch between lightsaber and wand."

Albus chuckled. "Yes, I do believe that it would be a good first step." He handed Harry the wand.

He looked seriously at Harry. "What you are about to learn is a rather difficult part of Transfiguration, which is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts, though a man of your talents should have little trouble grasping the concept. It is the magic of turning one thing into another."

Harry scrunched up his nose, which normally would make him look annoyed, but on his eleven-year-old face, it just looked cute. "I do not like that word. Magic."

Albus gave him a very severe look. "I was under the impression that Jedi were respecting of the culture of others."

Harry winced, realizing his mistake instantly. "I understand. I will not let my personal feelings towards the concept hinder my progress."

Albus nodded, satisfied, before beginning to teach in a manner he knew Harry would be receptive to based on what he had seen in his mind. "Good. Now, close your eyes—" Harry complied. "—and reach for the Force, as you would do when learning any new talent..."


"...Reach for the Force, you will," Master Yoda said. "All around you, it is."

Harry nodded. He felt the Force. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. So vast, so all-encompassing. It would be so, so easy to just lose himself in the POWER—

"No," Yoda said, smacking Harry with his gimmer stick. "To the Dark Side, a Jedi does not go. Feel the Light, you must."

And Harry did. He felt it. His senses extended beyond the human norm, and he felt it again, the pull. However, this time, he brushed it aside, clearing his mind.

The pebble in front of him twitched. "Good," Yoda said approvingly, and Harry's heart swelled with the praise. "Reach deeper, you now must."

Harry complied, reaching deep into the force, willing the pebble to move, and it did. It rose up nearly a foot off the table. Music started playing softly in the background, and Harry's concentration lapsed. The pebble dropped a few inches.

"Ignore all distractions, a Jedi does," said Yoda, standing next to the nearby holotable, swapping between songs. "Focus, you must. Do or do not, there is no try."


The wand shifted and contorted, but ultimately remained a wand. Harry sighed, opening his eyes. "Once more, Harry," Albus encouraged, silently cheering him on, knowing that most students never got this far on their first attempt. Harry seemed to know that as well and closed his eyes again...


The pebble continued to wobble. Harry had a difficult time concentrating through the noise of the music. I am one with the Force, the Force is with me, Harry thought. The pebble stopped wobbling and regained its original height.

"Good," Yoda said again. "Better, you are getting. But good enough, you are not." The music got louder.

Harry struggled but ultimately kept the pebble in place. The music reached a crescendo, before decreasing in volume, and finally turning off.

"Enough for today, you have done. More, you will do tomorrow," Yoda said firmly.

Harry let out a breath, and the pebble fell down to the table.


The wand shifted and contorted, before ultimately becoming a lightsaber again. Harry sighed in relief. I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.

"Well done, Harry!" Albus exclaimed. "Now, turn it back."

Harry shut his eyes, and the lightsaber reformed into a wand. Albus beamed. "Wonderful progress! Very rarely does a new student grasp a concept so quickly."

Harry laughed happily. "Oh, how it feels to be a student again."

The lightsaber changed to a wand and back rapidly. "I think I have learned this concept adequately," Harry said, grinning.

The doors to the medical hall burst open, the same woman Harry had woken up to earlier rushing in. "Albus, the monitoring charm on Mr. Potter has—!"

"It's all right, Poppy," Albus assured. "Mr. Potter here is perfectly fine." He winked at Harry, who grinned.

The woman—Poppy—narrowed her eyes. "I'll be the judge of that!"

Harry rolled his eyes and she walked towards them briskly, flipped out her wand, and began casting several spells of various colors. "What are those, Headmaster?" Harry asked, using the title because he didn't particularly trust this Poppy yet.

"Diagnostic charms, Harry. They allow a healer, Medi-Wizard or Medi-Witch to check the well-being of and diagnose their patients," Albus explained.

They were silent as the temperamental healer finished casting her charms.

She sniffed disapprovingly. "It seems that he is in perfect health."

Albus nodded, dismissing the woman. "Come, Harry. There is no reason for you to remain here. I shall walk you back to Gryffindor tower."

Gryffindor? Harry mouthed.

Albus looked amused. "I will explain on the way."

After they had left the medical wing, Harry looked at Albus expectantly.

"There are four houses at Hogwarts. These houses are intended to bring together like-minded groups of people, sorted by particular personality traits. Gryffindor is the house of the brave and chivalrous, which you were sorted into, Hufflepuff is the house of hard work and loyalty, Ravenclaw is the house of intelligence and wit, and Slytherin is the house of the ambitious and cunning. I, myself, was a Gryffindor, as you are now. Each house has a common room somewhere in the castle, along with dormitories as well as other facilities. You attend classes with your house, and you eat with your house."

Harry hmmed, feeling uneasy about the whole situation, though he could clearly see why he was a Gryffindor.

Albus turned his head to glance at Harry in the ensuing silence. "Forgive me, Harry, but I can't help but notice that you seem more oriented towards Ravenclaw."

Harry laughed, his uneasiness draining away as he looked back upon happier times. "Force, no. I'm certainly reckless enough to be a Gryffindor. Just you wait." He vividly remembered charging fearlessly towards a krayt dragon as it tore through his forces of clones. "I've certainly given my peers enough heart attacks to last a lifetime."

Albus chuckled. "I can't wait," he quipped, drawing out another snort from Harry.

Harry's expression turned serious once more as they began walking again. "When I awoke under the Sorting Hat, I sensed two presences behind me that outshone the others. Yours of the light, and another of the dark. Such a terrible darksider must be eliminated immediately."

Albus's expression turned thunderous. A dark wizard? In HIS school? "Harry, do you remember who it was?"

Harry shook his head sadly. "I can look again in the morning, but I didn't see him before I lost consciousness earlier."

Albus looked at Harry very intently. "There is something I must tell you. I fear much is at stake, yet the walls have ears, and we cannot speak of it here. Come to my office after breakfast in the morning, as you do not have classes tomorrow anyway. I cannot stress enough the importance of this."

Harry nodded severely. "I shall," he said, infusing the Force into his words.

Albus looked surprised. "I did not expect a magical vow, Harry. Your word would have been more than enough."

Harry simply looked at Albus until the Headmaster subsided. They suddenly stopped. In front of them was a portrait of an obese woman in white clothing, with an odd, herbal headdress. She was asleep, snoring in her painting. It was late, after all.

"This is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Simply say the password to enter," Albus explained.

Harry peered at the lady. "Strange choice of portrait for the house of daring."

Albus chuckled before knocking on the portrait once, twice, thrice. The fat lady awoke. "Wha—oh! Headmaster Dumbledore! What can I do for you? And who is this?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "This, my dear," Albus said, gesturing grandly at Harry, "is Harry Potter."

The fat lady gasped. "Oh my! I remember your parents, Mr. Potter. Lily and James, such a tragedy, they were such wonderful people."

Harry glanced up at Albus, visibly confused. "You'll find, Harry," Albus whispered mischievously, "that you are quite the public figure in our world."

Harry sighed. Albus turned towards the portrait once more. "Caput Draconis. If you would be so kind to open up for young Harry here, it would be much appreciated."

On "Caput Draconis," the portrait swung open, revealing the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. There was a fireplace, several windows, a multitude of tables, and the color scheme was mainly several shades of red.

Albus stepped back. "Go on, Harry. I'll speak with you in the morning."

Harry stepped inside, and the portrait swung closed behind him. As he walked towards the center of the room, the sounds of Albus and the fat lady talking faded until the room was entirely quiet except for a little bit of crackling from the fireplace.

He sighed, gazing into the crackling warmth of the fire. Everything was happening so fast. Just yesterday, he had been home in his apartment in Coruscant before fighting the inquisitors. He shoved the thoughts aside and walked up the staircase marked Boy's Stairs. At the top, he read the signs on each door until he found the one that had:

S. Finnegan
N. Longbottom
H. Potter
D. Thomas
R. Weasley

He pushed open the door, wincing when it squeaked and slipped inside. There were five beds, all of them occupied except one in the center with an unopened trunk at the foot of the bed. He walked over to the bed, masking his footsteps with the Force, and slipped under the covers, not bothering to change out of his robes. Despite meditating for several hours, he was very weary. It was time for some rest.

He slipped into oblivion peacefully, looking forward to the day ahead.


A/N:

I hope I did well here. This is a bit longer than the first chapter, but I'm looking to build up to ~6k words per chapter, as that's fairly reasonable.

Review, they make the biggest impact!