Part 1: The Force Awakens
Harry Potter had always known he was different. The strange incidents that happened around him, the odd way objects sometimes moved or broke, and the way he could sense things before they happened—these weren't normal. Not that anything about living with the Dursleys ever felt normal.
But everything changed the day Dudley brought home a new obsession: Star Wars.
The neighborhood kids crowded around the Dursleys' living room, captivated by lightsaber battles, starships, and the mysterious power of the Force. Harry, as usual, was relegated to the corner, forced to stay out of the way.
But he was listening.
"Only Jedi can use the Force," Dudley declared, puffing out his chest as the movie played. "I'd be the best Jedi ever!"
Harry snorted softly. If anyone had the power they talked about in the movie, it was him.
That night, long after the Dursleys had gone to bed, Harry replayed the scenes in his mind. The Jedi were powerful, noble protectors of peace and justice. They used the Force to guide their actions, to heal, and to fight.
Harry sat up in his cupboard, staring at his hands. What if that's what I've been doing all along?
From that day forward, Harry had a new purpose. If he had the Force, he needed to learn how to use it. He scavenged books from the library about meditation and focus, trying to emulate the calm and control the Jedi displayed.
He practiced moving objects without touching them, starting with pencils and erasers he borrowed from Dudley's old school supplies. It wasn't easy, but when he focused hard enough, they'd wiggle or even roll across the floor.
"Feel the Force," Harry whispered to himself, closing his eyes and stretching out his hand.
As time went on, his connection to the "Force" grew stronger. He could sense the moods of the people around him, dodge Dudley's punches with uncanny precision, and even influence Aunt Petunia to give him an extra slice of bread during dinner.
By the time he turned eleven, Harry had built himself a crude training regimen. He thought of himself as a Padawan, the first step to becoming a Jedi. Each night, he meditated, reaching out to the Force and imagining himself drawing strength from it.
The morning of Harry's eleventh birthday was no different—at first.
"Get the mail, boy!" Uncle Vernon barked, tossing an empty mug toward Harry's cupboard.
Harry emerged, rolling his eyes but complying. As he reached the door, however, a strange sensation prickled at the back of his neck—a tremor in the Force, as he thought of it.
He opened the door, and there it was: a letter addressed to him.
Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs.
His heart raced. He'd never received mail before. Carefully, he brought it inside and tore it open.
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Harry froze, reading the letter over and over. Witchcraft? Wizardry? This wasn't the Force. This was something else entirely.
But as he continued reading, his mind began to spin. A school for magical people, hidden from the world? It sounded suspiciously like something the Sith would do.
Harry stood abruptly, clutching the letter.
"No," he whispered. "This isn't magic. This is the Sith's work. They've corrupted the Jedi Council, twisted the truth. They're trying to convince everyone that the Force is just... magic."
He paced the cramped space of his cupboard, thinking furiously. He couldn't let this stand. The Sith had already taken everything from him—his parents, his life of freedom. And now they were trying to control him.
But he was a Jedi, wasn't he? Or at least, he would be. He couldn't let them win.
When Hagrid arrived later that day, Harry was ready.
"So you're the one who's been sent to take me," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at the giant. "Did the Sith put you up to this?"
Hagrid blinked, confused. "Eh? Sith? What're you on about, lad?"
"You're working for the ones who want to control the Force," Harry said, standing firm. "But I won't be fooled. I'm going to Hogwarts. I'll see what you and your so-called wizards are up to. And then I'll bring back the Jedi Council and stop the Sith for good."
Hagrid scratched his head. "Er... right. Well, long as yer comin'."
Harry climbed onto the back of Hagrid's motorbike, determination burning in his chest.
He would go to this Hogwarts, learn their secrets, and uncover the Sith's plans. They thought they could hide behind "magic" and "schools," but Harry knew better.
The Jedi would rise again.