Disclaimer: See Chapter 0.

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue! I'm still working on everything I've started, but there are a great many things going on in RL which have prevented me from doing much. I've been working two jobs, for one, and moving into my new house, for another. It's all very tiring.

Enjoy!

Harry Potter sat on a stool he had begged from the goblin attendant and continued the daunting task of inventorying the non-cash contents of his parents' vault at Gringott's Bank of London. The money he had counted last week and set aside quite a bit of it for the war effort he was about to begin, including creating a new account to aid British orphans who lost their parents to this war. He'd made sure to leave himself out of it and to include Muggle children. After all, the gold was doing nothing but sit there; he might as well put it to good use.

But there were plenty of other items in the vault, things he'd never noticed before. There were a large number of portraits, an antique oak dining table and eight matching chairs, jewelry, loose gems, photo albums, and family documents, including a huge and ornate family tree that was self-updating. It was really rather depressing to find the tree did not hold any secret living relatives. There were only the Dursleys. Of the gems and jewelry, he was keeping his parents' wedding rings and a huge piece of rose quartz the size of his fist that had been polished smooth and round, a pink sphere of crystal. The rest he planned to sell for the fund. The family documents included birth and death certificates, property deeds for Godric's Hollow and three other houses, and a book of pedigrees for a long and noble line of winged horses that had apparently been maintained by the house elves at Potter House, the ancestral home of Harry's family.

The photos Harry decided to go through in a more comfortable setting, but the portraits he wanted to go ahead and look at. They were covered by dust cloths, and Harry rolled these up carefully so he didn't dislodge a bunch of dust into the air. He laid them aside, then turned around to face the portraits.

There were two of them, and like all wizard paintings, they were sentient, mobile and vocal. The first was ordinary enough, a tall man with black hair, long enough to flow behind his shoulders, a dark red beard that was close cropped rather than long and flowing, and sharp blue eyes. He wore a simple tunic and pants of humble but quality cotton, a sash belting them around his waist, leather boots and a plain brown hooded robe. He was seated in a comfortable-looking chair to the side of a cheerily burning hearth, the rest of the background hidden in shadows.

The other was marvelously strange. He could, at first, have been mistaken for a house elf, but only at first. He was the same size, and he had pointed ears, but there the similarities ended. His ears were smaller and lacked earlobes, his complexion was olive green and he had thinning salt-and-pepper hair that had once been a dark, velvet green. His eyes were smaller, more human, and his nose was smaller as well. He only had three fingers on each hand, each ending in a thick, blunt claw. He was dressed in the same manner as the human and was seated on a strange floating cushion. It was not floating magically, but by some technical device upon which the cushion was mounted. Behind him was a scene straight out of a science fiction magazine. Tall columns of marble framed a vast window, and outside that window, small spaceships flew past against the backdrop of a great city that stretched all the way to the horizon. Sometimes other people dressed the same way would walk by, and they were all different species, none of which Harry recognized in the slightest. He said, "Wow. I've never seen a wizard painting like this before."

The little creature smiled. "And doubt I do that you ever will again." His voice was a medium tenor which had a bit of gravel in it, as well as amusement. "Wonder, you do, that you see even this one, yes?"

"Yes, sir. What are you? And what's your name?"

"Yoda am I called, and a Jedi Knight am I."

The man in the other portrait chuckled, his voice a rich, deep bass with a thick British drawl. "What he doesn't tell you, nor has he ever told anyone else that I'm aware of, is the name of his race. It's all a big secret."

Yoda rolled his eyes. "Much humor there is in you, my Padawan, for these dark times." Then he turned back to Harry. "Think you that it matters from what race I was born?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't. Race doesn't change intelligence, but it can affect what abilities a creature has, and it may affect how they think because of cultural differences."

"Very good answer, youngster." The human painting had a broad smile on his face. "But all Jedi have the same culture, no matter what race they come from, because they are raised by the Order from the time they are very young. This rule has very few exceptions, of which I am one. I was born and raised right here on Earth, and I wasn't found by the Order until I was seventeen years old."

"So, what is a Jedi?"

"A Jedi is a person with the ability to use the Force who has been trained to use it with honor and humility to help keep the peace throughout the Galactic Republic and has taken a vow to do so. The trainees, or Padawans, must pass a great many trials before this happens, and none are forced to walk that path who do not wish it, for it is a dangerous and often short road."

"And what is the Force? Is it just another word for magic?"

"No. As both a wizard and a Jedi, I am likely the only person in the galaxy qualified to answer that question. My name is Garik, by the way. In the times I lived in, it was general knowledge that there were two different kinds of magic; earth magic and life magic. Earth magic is unique to this planet as far as I know. It is easily accessible if one has the ability, which all wizards do, as it has permeated every form of life on Earth. The Force is life magic. Very few are ever born with the ability to use it, but it exists in all things throughout the galaxy. If a sentient being is able to use the Force, if it runs strongly enough within them, then they have the potential to become a Jedi. And there have probably been Muggles on Earth who were Force-strong."

"How does it work? And how would you know it if you had it?" Harry was starting to get a very strange feeling. What if he had this power? What if Dumbledore was wrong about the reasoning behind the prophesy? Could he really have been the "Chosen One", as the Daily Prophet kept calling him, because he could use life magic? Since he was about to begin his war effort, this was very important information. But honestly, he hoped that this wasn't the reason. He didn't want to be even more different, to give people even more reason to try and turn him into either a devil or a god. He'd had enough of that to last a thousand life times.

Garik seemed to look through Harry, and it was an odd feeling, though not actually uncomfortable. "The talent is identified by a Jedi Master. You may notice some things like faster reflexes or slight premonitions of danger."

Yoda spoke again. "If a youngster of ability a Master finds, then explain he will to the parents of that child and then take him to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant he will. But in the case of one already so old as Master Garik when found him I had, tradition it is to leave them, to train them not. Continue on with their lives they will, and in small ways, by instinct alone, will they continue to use the Force. But different was this young human. Already trained he was in a similar discipline, already knowing how to control the Force, and this magic."

Garik picked up the tale. "I was about your age when Master Yoda found me here. I was attending the school that my brother and his friends had founded, as Godric insisted that I receive a proper education, but before I had ever learned how to wave a wand, I had been taught by an old monk how to control my other abilities. I was in my final year of school when this little green creature walked into the Great Hall and boldly asked to see the person in charge. Well, all four of the Founders walked up to meet him, and had a discussion in the foyer. When they were done, Godric told me that I was to go with Yoda to further my education."

"And then you exploded." Harry could just see the scene if Dumbledore had come to him and told him suddenly that he had to attend a different school all together without ever having told him why. Thinking of the departed Headmaster was painful, though, and he quickly turned his thoughts back to the two portraits.

He chuckled. "I might have said something harsh, yes. But I went anyway, and I have always been grateful for my brother's interference. I only wish that I had been able to see him again before he died. Magic just cannot extend one's lifespan as far as the Force can." He sighed. "Regret gets you nowhere."

Harry nodded, then sighed. "Is it possible that I use this Force?"

Garik looked at him measuringly. "Possible, but very unlikely that you have enough to become a Jedi. The most I've ever seen since I returned to Earth was a particularly good Quidditch player, but even he only had some augmentation to his reflexes and response time. He couldn't have used it for anything else. Do you play Quidditch?"

"Yes."

"Any good at it?"

"I think so."

"Then you probably have just as much as he had. As a painting, I'm really not able to do what I could in life, so I can't be as sure as I might have been, but there you have it." Harry nodded, and was honestly relieved. They were silent for a moment, then Garik said, "Is that Family Tree Cassandra made in here?"

Yoda sighed slightly. "Always do you seek these children of your prophesies. So certain are you that they will ever be born?"

Garik shuffled in his chair, looking uncomfortable. "One of them already was. In the furor of the wars here on Earth, no one looked at this tapestry, but I have a copy of it with me here that will always mirror the real one. I knew when he came. I knew when the dark times descended on the galaxy, and I knew when they were lifted. But the time is not right to tell you everything, even now. There is one more who needs to hear it, and he will be here soon." He turned to Harry. "Now, the frame to the tapestry is on a hinge. There's a catch on the left side that should just pop loose. Go ahead and open it up."

Harry was more than a little curious, so he went back to the table he'd laid the Family Tree on. Looking at it, he found that the first ancestor listed on the Tree was Garik Gryffindor. The second was his daughter, Nariya, and Barrius the Potter, a Muggle. He grinned. It looked like his family had a long-standing tradition of flouting tradition and allowing Muggle marriages. He continued to look and found all kinds of familiar names like Black, Weasley, Longbottom and Dumbledore. It looked as though he was a distant cousin to all of the people who were most important to him.

He opened the catch on the left side of the frame and gently swung it open. There he found a real surprise. The tapestry was folded in half! There was another side to the family! Excited, Harry might have just whipped it out of the frame, but caution took hold of him for once. He lifted it gently and laid it flat on the table. The right side had been showing, the second side. The left, that of the older sibling was extensive, with many, many cousins, but there were also many disturbing cut offs, descendants who had died without issue.

"Those are the children who were born off this world, out in the larger galaxy." Garik sat back, remembering a time long past. "I was on assignment on Barrin Dur tracking a slave trader. I was discovered and captured, made a slave. I was implanted with a small explosive which would be detonated at the will of my captor if I tried to escape."

"Couldn't you have escaped anyway?"

He nodded. "Yes, but in his anger, Corra the Hutt would likely have killed many of his slaves. I stayed in the hope of destroying his operation and returning the slaves to freedom." He shuffled again. "Before that could happen, I was sold to a very powerful and deadly woman, Queen Hishall of the Bedlin system. The Bedlin used slaves for various entertainments, including watching them mate." Harry sucked in his breath in surprise. "Yes. When I was finally extricated and both the Bedlin and Corra had been brought to justice, I sought out the child I had sired because of that, but he had already been sold to another trader. I never found him."

Harry blinked. "But then how did he come to be on the tapestry?"

"When I returned to Earth, I married and the tree was made as a matter of tradition. My wife, Cassandra Ravenclaw, was extremely talented in making these things, and not only our daughter appeared on it, but my son as well. I had told her about him, but it was still amazing that she was able to put him into the tapestry." He stopped to breathe, then said, "Look down at the end."

So Harry did, and he easily spotted the anomaly. Shmi Skywalker was listed as having a son, Anakin, but there was no father listed. On a magical tapestry, it wouldn't matter that they weren't married or if she had already been married to someone else. Anakin's father should have been listed. Anakin himself had married and sired twin children, Luke and Leia, and their mother, Padmé Naberi, was listed, as was Leia's husband and her twins, Jacen and Jaina. The entire family before Luke and Leia was dead. Why, when it listed every single one of the rest, was that one man left out? "What's wrong with this entry?"

Garik grinned. "Nothing. There was no father, save the Force." Harry's eyes bugged out and the Jedi/wizard laughed at the expression on his face. "Sounds strange, doesn't it. Anakin was the result of something called a vergence. There's a very complicated scientific explanation for it all, but basically a vergence is a direct action of the Force upon a living being. It acted upon Shmi Skywalker to produce her child." Once again, Garik sat back in his chair, allowing himself to sink into it. "Anakin was a good man, and a powerful Jedi. But he was corrupted."

Beside him, Yoda sucked in a surprised breath. Even after all these centuries, his student could still surprise him. "Corrupted, say you?"

Garik sighed. "Later. I'll tell you when the other arrives." Looking into the fire, the man seemed to see beyond it and into another reality. "It should be very soon." The fire in the painting and the flame of the torch on the wall of the vault both moved from an unfelt wind, an effect which made the hairs raise on the back of Harry's neck. A vague portent of something coming centered itself in his mind, and he could only hope that whatever it was, it would be of help to the gathering forces of light here on this planet. The painting whispered again, "Very soon indeed."

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