Harry Potter: A Star Wars Adventure (Ch. 1) (Patreon)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Harry Potter: A Star Wars Adventure

Chapter 1

The desert was so quiet that the arrival of Harry Potter sent the few insects and lizards living in this wasteland scurrying away for miles around. One moment, there was only sand, wind, and the silence of complete emptiness. The next moment, a circle of white light split open mid-air, glassing the sand underneath it. Harry landed on both feet at once with his knees bent and head low, as if ready to face an immediate attack. The portal winked out behind him, leaving him stranded in what felt like an oven. 

The scorching heat was brutal. Sweat immediately prickled on his scalp before he even straightened up. He rolled his shoulders, straightened his back, and scanned the perimeter for any threat. All he found was his shadow stretching across the rippling sand. Harry was tall and lean, with iron-hard muscles hidden underneath his clothes. His black hair stuck up at odd angles, and it was already clumping with sweat. He squinted upward and blinked from the blinding light. He saw two suns burning at different heights and from different distances. Not wanting to damage his eyes, he averted his gaze. Instead, he scanned the landscape. There was no grass, no trees, and no buildings. All he could see were dunes and tiny grains of sand whipped away by the howling wind. 

He checked his bearings, then checked his own body. He still had both hands, both feet, and everything else important. He had come in dressed for combat, wearing lightweight poly-weave trousers, boots with rubberized soles, and an army green tank top that let the sweat dry as soon as it surfaced. Harry turned his hand over and looked at the inside of his wrist. His skin looked even paler in the bright desert light. The runic tattoo was still there. His trip through the portal had made the magical tattoo tingle unpleasantly. He flexed the hand, hoping it would help make the tingle go away. “Bugger,” he complained when it didn’t. It would go away on its own time. It always did when he traveled. 

He walked a straight line for a few minutes, crossing several dunes and looking for any sign of life. The wind was so dry it seemed to suck the saliva from his mouth. He licked his dry lips and muttered again, “Well, that’s just great.” He stopped, waited for a few minutes, and decided what to do next. 

He knelt and ran his fingers through the fine-grained sand. He couldn’t even find a single bug track. The world looked completely untouched. He glanced up at the twin suns again, then flipped his left hand over and tapped the tattoo with his right index finger.

The lines lit up, glowing bright blue, and the light raced along his veins. A tiny seam opened at the base of the tattoo, like the skin itself had a zipper. A black box the size of a matchbox shot out into his palm. It was cool and humming faintly. Harry tossed it at the ground. Midair, the box expanded and bloomed into a full-sized trunk. It hit the sand with a thud. 

He crouched and yanked the lid open. The trunk’s interior was lined with fitted compartments, each etched with expansion runes. Harry fished out his racing broom. The shaft was made of anodized titanium, and the bristles had been replaced with fanned-out carbon fiber. It was a prototype from his own design. It was fast enough to rip the skin off a man’s face, and nearly indestructible.

Next, he retrieved an army-green military-style satchel that he had expanded and enchanted to be weightless. Inside were a few ration packs, several potions, and an enchanted canteen that was ever-filling and permanently cold to the touch. He snapped the canteen open and took a long pull. The near-freezing water instantly cooled him down. Harry then poured water over his head and shivered as it ran down his back and soaked his shirt. 

He jammed the canteen into the satchel, slung it across his chest, and clicked the trunk closed with his boot. It instantly shrank back to matchbox size. Harry held out his hand, and it flew up into his palm. Harry stuffed it back into the tattoo, which glowed blue again. 

Harry stretched his back and neck. He had only gone through the portal a few times, but it always left his muscles aching. He caught his reflection in the blank chrome of the broom’s handle. A very handsome face with bright green eyes looked back at him.

He squinted at the horizon again. There was no sign of anything but dunes and sun. If he walked, he’d collapse from heat stroke before he found shelter. If he stayed put, he’d fry. He only had one play. He straddled the broom and locked his thighs around the shaft. It buzzed under him, eager to be in the sky again. Harry felt the same way. He crouched low with a wide smile and kicked off.

The broom screamed upward as sand burst out in a shockwave beneath him. Harry grinned and leveled out a hundred meters above the desert surface. He shot forward, streaking across the empty desert landscape. 

He flew until the first sun began to dip, and the horizon finally offered something new. In the far distance, he thought he saw the first sign of life. Harry leaned into the broom, pushed it harder, and raced forward with the hope of civilization.

Harry Potter: A Star Wars Adventure

At first, the city looked like a mirage. Harry wasn’t sure it was real until he was almost on top of it. The city wasn’t anything special. It was a collection of low walls, domes, and towers, all the same sun-bleached color as the sand. He kept the broom high, rode the air currents, and scanned for hostiles. The closer he got, the more he could smell. The city stunk of garbage and sweaty bodies. 

A perimeter wall circled the city, though it wasn’t much of a defense. There were holes in it everywhere. Once past the wall, Harry dove and landed in an alley between two buildings. The air inside felt slightly cooler as he landed in the shade.

He stuffed the broom into his satchel, then pressed the canteen to his lips and drank deeply. The freezing water made his teeth ache for a second. Harry drank it down, stowed the canteen in the satchel, and did a quick gear check. Finding everything in order, he took a deep breath and stepped out onto the street.

Harry could only describe it as orderly chaos. The place was even more crowded than it looked from the air. Every few seconds, hovering vehicles roared past. Their engines were loud and clangy, and it set him on edge. The crowd was beyond anything he had ever seen. Harry saw creatures with four arms, creatures with tentacles for mouths, and little hairy things running around with arms full of their wares. Most of the locals wore light-colored tunics or cloaks to protect them from the sun. Some wore helmets or breathing apparatuses. It was a strange sight. 

He stuck out immediately. He was too tall, too healthy, and obviously not from around here. Eyes immediately followed him. Some were hostile, and others were just curious. He kept moving.

The city was loud as well. People yelled, vendors loudly hawked their weird food, and strange walking robots beeped and booped. Harry kept to the edge of the crowd, weaving between piles of scrap and food carts. The alleys stank of garbage and piss, and as he walked past the food carts, he caught flashes of moldy bread, roasting meat, and the sharp smell of alien spices.

Harry did a quick mental inventory. He had none of the local currency, no local map, and no working translator. He couldn’t even guess what the language was. Every time he tried to listen in on a conversation, the language completely went in one ear and out the other. He needed to blend in, and he needed intel. He needed it fast.

Harry ducked down a narrow side street, stepped into the shadow of a broken tower, and waited. It didn’t take long. A trio of young humanoid men moved past the alley. He ignored them. It was the next one he wanted. A lone figure in an old leather jacket walked in his direction.

Harry grabbed him at the intersection. One hand grabbed the guy’s shoulder, and the other covered his mouth. He yanked him into a dark corner, pushed him back against the wall, and didn’t flinch when the guy tried to bite.

“Calm down,” Harry whispered. It was pointless, though. The guy obviously couldn’t understand him, but he made his tone as soothing as possible. The guy’s breath stank of alcohol, and his body reeked of sweat.

Harry took a deep breath and let his magic crawl from his core to his fingertips. He pressed his palm to the man’s forehead, closed his eyes, and let the runes carved into his skull ignite.

It was like being hit in the brain with a sledgehammer. Harry’s vision went white as fifteen hundred micro-runes flared to life on the outside of his skull. Each one tuned itself to the neural pattern of the stranger. The pain was incredible. Every synapse lit up, and the language center in his brain snapped into sync with the other man’s.

The guy spasmed, and his eyes rolled back. Harry gritted his teeth, held the contact for another full second, then let go. A line of blood dripped from Harry’s left nostril.

The man slumped against the wall, nearly unconscious. Harry steadied him and waved his hand in front of his face. The memory of the past ten seconds slipped away from the man’s mind, leaving a blank spot. The guy stared straight ahead, then blinked hard, as if waking from a deep sleep. Harry let him go. The guy stumbled forward, wobbled, then darted away without glancing back.

Harry leaned against the wall and sucked in some much-needed air. The pain in his skull faded to a dull, rhythmic throb. Harry wiped the blood from his nose and magically vanished the red liquid from his palm. His magical enhancements were already soothing the headache and pushing him back to normal.

He stepped out of the alley and let the two new languages settle into place. Words on the signs snapped into focus. He saw signs for credit exchange, water rations, and weapons repair. Snatches of conversation suddenly made sense, as if he’d always understood them. The city was still a mess, but now it was nowhere near as intimidating.

Harry smiled as he walked down the street, listening and cataloging everything he heard. Most of the chatter was the same as any city he’d been in. It was mostly news, gossip, and complaints about the heat and the taxes. He heard about pod races, spice shipments, and a new offworlder who’d been making trouble in the upper market.

He followed the crowd toward the nearest cantina. Its door was marked by a flickering sign that read, in several languages, “No Blasters and No Credit.” Harry shook his head and walked in. The inside was loud, smelly, and packed with every kind of scum Harry had ever imagined. He took it all in with a single glance. The bottles of booze behind the bar were of every color imaginable. There were small tables on the floor and booths carved into the walls. A live band was playing a tune that was ninety percent percussion. The singer was a scantily clad woman with green skin. She obviously wasn’t human, even though most of her body actually did look human. The only differences were her bald head, conical ears, and the two long headtails that drooped down her back. Other than that, Harry thought she was sexy as hell. 

Harry moved toward the stage, keeping his eyes on the green-skinned singer and her impossibly sexy legs. The headtails that draped down her back swung with each sway of her hips. She was smiling at him, and not in a shy way. Her teeth were white and straight, and her tongue flicked along the inside of her lower lip as she held his gaze.

She saw him watching and leaned forward on the edge of the stage. Her dress was cut almost down to her navel, and her breasts were perfectly round. She pressed them together with her arms and put on a show for anyone who cared to watch. Her skin glimmered in the dim blue light, and Harry decided that if she wanted his attention, she would get it.

He made it to the front, and he was close enough to smell the perfume on her skin. He smiled handsomely, and she blew him a kiss. The crowd cheered at her sexiness, but not everyone in the place was so happy.

Harry felt a big, hairy hand land on his shoulder, then he was spun around so fast that he almost lost his balance. He found himself face to face with a creature that looked like a wolfman from a bad horror movie. The thing had yellow eyes, a squished snout full of fangs, and hair growing out of every inch of its skin. It wore a stained vest and ratty trousers, and its claws dug into Harry’s shoulder.

The wolfman barked something in a language Harry didn’t understand, but the meaning was pretty clear. It was looking for a fight.

Before Harry could say a word, a second figure lurched up beside them. It was a Twi’lek as well, but this one was nothing like the singer. He was fat, with jiggling flesh and skin that looked like a greasy sausage casing. His headtails were wrapped in a dirty scarf, and his shirt was so tight you could see the rolls of fat underneath. He pointed a finger at Harry’s face, then spoke.

“Greef says you look at his woman, he’ll tear out your throat.” The Twi’lek’s voice was thick and nasaly, and he snorted after each sentence. “You make Greef angry. Very stupid.”

Harry looked at the wolfman’s grip on his shoulder. “You might want to take your hand off me,” he said, keeping his tone casual.

The fat Twi’lek translated and most likely added some extra words. Greef snarled, and the claws dug in deeper. Harry rolled his eyes. He glanced over the wolfman’s shoulder at the singer. She had stopped singing and was watching them with a smile. She even gave Harry a little wave, which only pissed Greef off more.

Harry looked back at the Twi’lek. “Tell your dog to let go of me.”

The Twi’lek grunted, “He’s not dog. He is champion of Outer Rim. Nobody beats Greef.”

Harry smiled. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Greef roared and shoved Harry into the bar, knocking over two little goblin creatures who scattered like bugs. The crowd parted, leaving Harry and Greef in a circle of open space. The Twi’lek sidled up next to Greef, hissing in his ear.

Harry straightened his shirt, then looked at the crowd. Everyone in the bar was watching. Even the band had stopped playing. The singer sat on the stage, crossed her legs, and rested her chin on her fist. She seemed very amused by the whole thing. 

Harry cracked his neck, then faced Greef. The wolfman’s lips peeled back to show a smile full of sharp teeth. Greef took a step forward. “You want problem, you got problem,” said the Twi’lek, translating as he advanced.

Harry had no interest in a bar brawl, but he hated being manhandled. If these things wanted a fight, they would get one. 

Greef roared and lunged. Harry stepped forward, caught Greef’s wrist with his hand and twisted it upward. Bones popped loudly in his arm, and Greef yelped. Harry slammed his elbow into the creature’s face, then swept his legs out from under him as it stumbled back. Greef crashed headfirst to the floor.

The Twi’lek tried to rush him, but Harry slammed his palm into the fat man’s chin, snapping his head back. He followed it with a vicious punch to the gut. The Twi’lek doubled over, gagging.

Harry looked at Greef, who was scrambling to his feet. The wolfman pulled out a knife the size of a small machete and tried to gut Harry with his one good arm. Harry sidestepped the attack and chopped him in the throat with the side of his hand. The knife clattered to the floor as Greef wheezed loudly and dropped to his knees. Harry brought his knee up, driving it into the wolfman’s snout. Blood splattered across the bar, spraying a row of empty shot glasses. Greef reeled backward, clutching his face.

Harry turned back to the fat Twi’lek, who was already coming at him with a bottle in each hand. The Twi’lek chucked the first bottle at his head, but Harry easily moved out of the way, and it shot past him. Harry ducked the next swing, caught the Twi’lek’s wrist, and twisted it so hard that the bottle slipped free. It shattered on the bar top, splashing booze everywhere. Harry shoved the Twi’lek in the back, sending him sprawling to the floor. 

The thrown bottle had missed Harry, but not a devil-skinned alien with horns. The bottle hit the devil on the head, making his head snap back. It groaned and shook the cobwebs from its head. Realizing what had happened, he screamed out a curse, leaped to his feet, and tackled the Twi’lek as it tried to get up. The Twi’lek’s fat legs kicked in the air as the devil pounded his head into the floor. That was all it took for the whole bar to erupt. 

Someone swung a chair at someone else’s head, and two lizard-faced women started slapping each other with incredible force. Greef, still bleeding from the nose, tried to crawl up the side of the bar. Harry yanked him down and slammed him back to the floor. Then, for good measure, he jammed the wolfman’s good arm behind his back and snapped it at the elbow.

Greef screamed, but Harry put an end to that by slamming his head onto the floor, knocking him unconscious. Once he stopped moving, Harry reached into the wolfman’s vest for valuables. He came away with a small, bulging pouch. He opened it and found a stack of strange metallic coins. He was pretty sure these were used as currency here.

Harry pocketed them and stood up straight. He looked around. Fights were breaking out everywhere. Bottles were flying, blood was spraying, and the band had already abandoned their instruments. The green-skinned singer had retreated to the back of the stage, but she was still watching Harry. She winked at him even as she ducked a thrown mug.

Harry dusted himself off and headed for the exit. He didn’t even glance at the carnage behind him. The sun outside was still hotter than hell, but at least it wasn’t as noisy. He walked out into the street with a pocket full of coins and a new spring in his step.

Harry had survived his first alien bar fight, and he was feeling good about his odds in this universe.

Harry Potter: A Star Wars Adventure

After only a few short hours of wandering, Harry realized he had landed in a cesspit of thuggery, scammers, thieves, and murderers. The streets were dense with every type of crook and creep, and at every corner someone was hustling, haggling, or holding a knife to someone else’s ribs. The air stank of sweat, fried food, and exhaust from ancient speeders that rattled down the streets. If there were cops here, Harry hadn’t seen them, but he had seen at least four dead bodies already, and one was being picked over by what looked like rats, only bigger … and with more legs.

He tested a few street markets and found half the stalls were fronts for illegal trades. The “spice” they sold was obviously not for cooking, and the “fresh water” didn’t smell too fresh. Kids in filthy rags darted between the crowds, snatching anything they could carry, and no one gave chase. Harry caught one sneaking a hand into his pocket and grinned as the boy’s fingers closed around a literal live mouse Harry had instantly conjured. The kid yelped and ran away, and Harry chuckled in response. 

He took it all in stride. These were his kind of people, in a way. He’d grown up with the Dursleys, survived Hogwarts, and outlasted the British wizarding world’s best attempts to kill him. He’d lived through Dudley’s gang, the Slytherins, Death Eaters, and Ministry politics. A city full of thieves and murderers didn’t scare him, and he walked like he owned the street, because in a place like this, confidence was better than any armor.

At a busy intersection, a group of local thugs was shaking down a merchant for protection money. The merchant, who was a rodent-faced woman with bulging eyes, tried to explain that she’d paid last week, but a hulking brute with a tattooed skull grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the wall. As he walked by, Harry waved his hand in their direction. Immediately, every single thug’s eyes began to bulge out of their sockets. They each grabbed their throats as their faces began to darken. The rodent woman, not knowing what was going on, took the opportunity to run back into her shop and shut the door. The thugs dropped to their knees, and their mouths started foaming. Harry then waved his hand again, and they all sucked in loud gasps of air. They stumbled to their feet and ran off with their tails between their legs. 

Harry Potter: A Star Wars Adventure

Harry ducked just in time for a clay pot to explode on the wall behind his head, spraying ceramic shards across his hair and shoulders. A sharp pain in his temple told him at least one fragment had scored a hit. He ducked his head and kept moving as the pink-skinned Theelin woman kept screaming after him. “I said NO ROOM! Get out!” she howled as loud as she could. The words echoed down the dry alley as if she was determined to make every resident of this rotten district hear the rejection.

Harry took the hint. He brushed the ceramic from his hair and walked away with his dignity only mildly dented. He’d already tried seven different places, and not a single one would rent him a room. Apparently, the stories about all types of scum being welcome did not apply to this particular part of the city.

It was getting dark on the streets. The sky faded from bright blue to a dirty pink. Harry didn’t fancy sleeping in an alley with the local wildlife, so he pressed on, wandering deeper into the city’s heart. The twin suns dropped below the skyline of short towers and domes, but the air stayed baking hot. He imagined it would get very cold soon, though. Neon signs blinked to life, advertising every vice and pleasure the city could offer.

Harry turned a corner as a group of six drunken thugs marched past. He kept his head down and his hands in his pockets, though he doubted they’d care about one stray human. Still, he didn’t want to draw attention. Not yet, at least. A few minutes later, Harry came upon another open shop and ducked inside.

Harry immediately recognized the place as a junk shop. Every shelf sagged under heaps of rusted tech, cracked droids, half-disassembled blasters, and mysterious objects that looked like props from a bad sci-fi movie. Harry ignored all the rubbish as he approached the counter.

He didn’t make it three steps before a creature shot out from behind a pile of droid parts and hovered in the air inches from his face. It was a blue-skinned Toydarian with a downward-curving snout. “What do you want, stranger?” the Toydarian barked as it folded its arms across its chest. 

“I’m looking for a room to rent,” Harry said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

The Toydarian’s laugh was gravelly and obnoxious. “Room, hah! You and every deadbeat in this stinking city. It’s high demand, low supply, you see? You got money, or you get out.” The wings buzzed louder, rattling the droid heads on the nearest shelf.

Harry pulled out the coin pouch he’d taken from the wolfman. He dropped a few of the metallic pieces on the counter. He had no idea what they were worth, but the Toydarian started cackling. “This is nothing! This is pocket change for a beggar boy! For a real room, you need real money, or you don’t get to sleep with a roof above your head. Go on, try somewhere else.”

“Come on now,” Harry deadpanned. “I’m not picky. I just need a door that locks and a bed that doesn’t stink of piss.”

The Toydarian considered it, then spat. It landed with a wet plop next to Harry’s coins. “You are a funny man,” he said. “But you are still broke. Maybe you trade, huh? Maybe you got something I want?”

Everything Harry had, he wasn’t willing to give. However, he had noticed that water was scarce and very valuable in this city. Water was something he had an unlimited supply of. “What about fresh water?”

The Toydarian’s black eyes glittered. “You got fresh water? Ten liters a night. Pure … No contamination … No rot.”

Harry felt his face split into a cheeky grin. “Good. Then, it’s a deal.”

The Toydarian’s jaw dropped in disbelief at getting one over on the human, but he recovered fast. “You get the water, you come back, and I’ll have room for you. If you don’t, I’ll find you and break your fingers so you never joke again.”

Harry stuck out his hand over the counter. The Toydarian eyed it suspiciously, then shook it. “Name’s Watto,” the Toydarian grunted, then flapped away to the far side of the shop.

On his way out back, Harry passed a wall lined with blasters. He made a mental note. This place would be good to loot if things went sideways.

The area behind the junkyard walls was filthy. Fluorescent green mold crept up the walls, and something large and slug-like oozed through a pile of garbage. Harry didn’t let it faze him, though. He conjured a ten-liter jug straight out of thin air. He pointed his finger at it and silently cast the Aguamenti Charm. The jug filled in seconds with water as clear as glass.

He carried it back inside. Watto was waiting behind the counter with his arms folded, looking skeptical. “That was fast. Did you buy or steal it?”

“Neither,” Harry said, and set the jug on the countertop.

Watto dipped a finger in and tasted. He smacked his lips. “No chemicals … no strange taste. You did good. Maybe you don’t need your fingers broken after all, eh?” He stashed the jug behind the counter, then motioned for Harry to follow.

They went out a side door to something that looked like a sandstone shed. Watto unlocked a metal door and showed Harry inside.

The room was only four by three meters, and the “bed” was a sagging cot with a stained, moth-eaten mattress. A light flickered overhead, and a square of thick glass set in the far wall offered a view of what looked like a sewage trench. A battered metal chair sat next to what looked like a small stove, and a bucket in the corner probably counted as the master bathroom.

Harry set his bag on the cot and looked around. “It’s perfect,” he said with that same cheeky grin.

Watto snorted. “You’re crazy.” Then he left without another word, closing the metal door behind him.

Now alone, Harry took stock of his new home. He started by vanishing the old mattress with a flick of his hand. He then conjured a new one that was clean, soft, and exactly to his liking. He turned the bucket into a proper toilet, and he then conjured a sheet, blanket, and pillow. Satisfied, he made the bed, lay down, and stretched his arms above his head.

Harry sighed in relief. “Not bad,” he chuckled.