“What did you do with Ferus?” Anakin said, stepping closer to Draco.
Draco stared into those blue eyes and felt a cold knot in his stomach. He dug his fingernails into his palms. This…boy was not his father. He stood his ground and looked up at the smooth face inches from his. He could smell him – earthy, dusty, and dry.
“I don’t know any Ferus,” Draco said.
The corners of the boy’s mouth tightened. “Oh,” he said and reached for him. Draco saw it coming but couldn’t step aside fast enough. He went flying backwards, landing hard and slamming into the wall, his head ringing as it connected with the stone.
More wandless magic, Draco thought as the boy walked toward him, the glowing blue sword disappearing into the folds of his robe.
Draco sagged against the wall as the other boy approached, pretending to be hurt more than he was, whimpering in pain.
Anakin leaned over just as Draco kicked out and caught him at his knees. Anakin cried out and then was on him.
Draco took the first blow on his shoulder and grabbed the other boy’s robes, pulling him down, twisting until they were both tangled together, rolling on the floor, punching, grabbing and shoving. Draco’s fist connected with the side of Anakin’s face, stunning him. He rolled on top of him, straddling him and tried to follow up with another blow to the scratched and bloodied face.
“Stop,” a voice echoed through the chamber and as much as Draco wished to disobey the command, he could not move his arm. He looked up as a bearded man in tan robes strode into the room.
This man stared not at Draco so much but at the boy struggling beneath him. “Did no one think to get one of us? It’s not common for one student to disappear only to be replaced by another?” He gazed around the room. Draco heard several quick “Sorry, Master.”
The man squatted down near them, his voice calm, quiet. “Should I let him keep beating you my young Padawan? Another lesson in humility would serve you well.”
“No, Master,” the boy hissed below me.
“No, indeed,” he said before turning to look more closely at Draco.
“Get up,” he said, standing up. Draco could feel the hold on him end. He looked down at himself, his impeccable black robes torn and dirty. He could feel blood on his lip and soreness around one of his eyes already.
He stood up suppressing a groan, a sharp stab in his side. Broken rib. Madame Pomphrey will be most annoyed, Draco thought. If I ever get back to Hogwart’s, that is.
The man extended a hand to help the other boy up, whispering something Draco couldn’t quite make out. The boy’s set jaw loosened and he nodded, the fire banked in his eyes. But, even though disheveled and bloodied, the boy stood proudly and took the scolding calmly.
Draco had to stand through many such admonishments in much worse condition than he was now. He could feel a kinship, a bond with him even though he barely knew his name.
“I apologize,” the boy said, walking toward him. “I acted dishonorably and have shamed my Master.” The boy glanced at the man beside him who stood, arms crossed, watching them. “I am required to make amends to you,” he held out his hand.
Draco studied them both for a moment before quickly clasping the hand, the palm rough and calloused against his own. A shiver ran through him as he let go.
“I am Anakin Skywalker,” he said, “and this is my Master, Obi-wan Kenobi.” The man nodded.
Draco winced as he licked his broken lip. “My name is Draco Malfoy. And where in the bloody hell am I?”
Obi-wan smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. Draco groaned. “Your questions can wait. Let’s see if we can take care of the worst that my foolish Padawan has done.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
This chapter written by Littlesnitch. Originally posted here .
Warning: Harry Potter/Star Wars Crossover! So you know, logic goes out the window and all that.
Rating: If it's continued, I imagine it'll get to NC-17. This bit is PG.
Summary: After a dueling accident, Draco Malfoy finds himself in a very strange place.
Note: Unbeta'd and probably really crappy