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Harry Potter and the Boy From Tatooine - Chapter 32 - The Lost Item

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of his recovery room, his hands resting gently on his knees, palms upturned. His breath was steady, slow, controlled. Across from him, Obi-Wan Kenobi mirrored his posture, his expression calm yet focused, his posture effortlessly composed. The quiet hum of the compound outside barely reached them, muffled by the walls of the room that had become Harry’s reluctant sanctuary since his return.

After his capture and escape from Jaxar, he had found it impossible to remain still. His body, though healing at an astonishing rate, still carried the phantom aches of his ordeal. He had wanted to move, to act, to do something—anything—but Obi-Wan had been firm. Until the medical droids cleared him, he was not to leave this area of the compound.

At first, it had been maddening. Harry had always been a person of action, even in his previous life. But over the past few days, he had discovered that meditation helped him regain a sense of balance. The more he practiced, the easier it became to channel the restlessness into something useful.

“Inhale … hold … exhale,” Obi-Wan instructed calmly, his voice smooth and measured.

Harry followed the rhythm as he exhaled slowly, reaching outward with the Force, feeling the faint presence of the life around him. The soft rustling of leaves from the garden, the distant hum of the security droids on patrol, and the steady pulse of Obi-Wan’s presence, firm and unshakable. It was helping—he had to admit that. The urge to pace, to move, to act was dulling, replaced by a quiet hum of awareness.

"You are improving," Obi-Wan observed, his voice quiet but carrying a note of approval.

Harry cracked one eye open and gave him a smirk. "Getting better at sitting still, am I?"

Obi-Wan chuckled, the faintest quirk of his lips betraying his amusement. "You joke, but patience and control are just as vital as combat prowess. If you ever hope to wield the Force properly, you must learn discipline. Strength without control is as dangerous as a starship without a pilot."

Harry sighed, closing his eyes again. He understood the lesson, even agreed with it, but it didn’t make the waiting any easier. There were still so many unanswered questions about Jaxar, his motives, and—perhaps most unsettling—what his plans were going forward.

Before he could dwell too deeply on those thoughts, Obi-Wan stiffened slightly. A moment later, a small chime echoed from the communicator on his belt. The Jedi Knight exhaled softly, then reached for the device, glancing at the communicator as a voice came through, firm and professional.

“Kenobi, Captain Falco has requested your presence for an urgent update.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked to Harry before he stood smoothly, brushing down the front of his robes. “Understood. I’ll be there shortly.”

After ending the call Obi-Wan looked to Harry again. "We were expecting a report on a potential lead regarding Jaxar."

Harry nodded, as he looked at Obi-Wan and stretched. "You should go."

Obi-Wan studied him for a brief moment before turning towards the door. "I won’t be long. Continue your meditation."

Harry let out a short laugh. "I’ll try not to run away while you're gone."

Obi-Wan gave him a long-suffering look before shaking his head and exiting the room. The door hissed shut behind him, leaving Harry alone in the quiet.

For a few moments, he remained still, attempting to return to his meditation. But the room suddenly felt too empty, the stillness too heavy.

His fingers tapped restlessly against his knee.

Patience and control.

Easier said than done.

His mind drifted to his recovery, and to the way his body had healed faster than even his master had anticipated. The medical droids had run scans, studied his vitals, and been quite pleased if slightly confused by his rapid regeneration that, while uncommon, was not unheard of in particularly strong Force-sensitives.

He put those thoughts out of his mind and reached out with his senses again, attempting to begin mediating again.

The room was still. The compound was steady. Obi-Wan’s presence had faded beyond his immediate awareness, likely too far away to feel without stretching his limits.

And yet …

Something tugged at the edge of his perception. A ripple, faint but undeniable.

Harry frowned, opening his eyes.

The feeling wasn’t coming from far away. He sensed it was close at hand.

His gaze swept the room, but nothing seemed out of place. No disturbances, no intruders. And yet, the sense of something brushing against his awareness remained.

After a few more minutes of attempting—unsuccessfully—to return to his meditation, Harry gave up with a quiet sigh and got to his feet. His body still felt restless, and he knew from experience that washing up usually helped him reset his mind.

Crossing the room, he stepped into the refresher, letting the cool water splash over his face. He took his time, rinsing away the lingering tension and fatigue that had settled in his muscles. Staring into the mirror, he studied his reflection, still not entirely used to the face staring back at him. There were traces of the boy he had seen in the metal all those months ago when he first opened his eyes on Tatooine, but they had been changing ever since he had arrived in this universe—his hair slightly darker, his eyes more vibrant, his frame a little leaner. It was as though his body was adapting, shifting, reshaping itself into something entirely his own.

Shaking off the thoughts, he dried his hands and turned back toward his room.

The moment he stepped out of the refresher, he froze.

Two men stood across from him in the corner of his room, both watching him with unreadable expressions.

Harry’s eyes narrowed in surprise, his mind instinctively reaching out with the Force. However, there was no sense of danger, no immediate hostility. Their presences in the Force were calm—one steady and bright, the other layered and complex, but both well-meaning and no threat to him … at least at the present moment.

He exhaled slowly before nodding at them. “Well, this is unexpected.” He motioned toward the small table and chairs along the edge of his room. “But since you’ve already let yourself into the room, might as well make yourselves comfortable.”

The older of the two—far older, with white hair and a lined face that spoke of wisdom earned through experience—let out a low chuckle. “That is quite trusting of someone who had an attempt on his life only days ago.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t get the feeling that the two of you mean me any harm.” He tilted his head, studying them both more closely. “And besides, I’m incredibly curious about who you are. Plus, for the most part, my master has a habit of showing up just in time if anything ever goes wrong, so I think I’ll be fine.”

As if summoned by those very words, the door slid open with a quiet hiss, and Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped inside.

The moment his eyes landed on the two visitors, his expression shifted from calm professionalism to surprise. His eyebrows shot up, and he paused mid-step.

“Oh. Hello, Master Cerulian,” Obi-Wan greeted, his tone carrying both respect and confusion. “It’s a surprise to see you …” He trailed off, his voice uncertain.

The older man—Master Thame Cerulian, apparently—laughed again, a warm, deep sound. “It’s a surprise to see me alive?” he finished for him, amusement evident in his tone.

Obi-Wan flushed slightly. “I was going to say it’s a surprise to see you interested in a Jedi Council matter.”

Cerulian smiled knowingly. “Ah, of course. Well, even an old hermit like myself can be intrigued now and then.” He turned his gaze back to Harry. “But where are my manners? Young man, I am Master Thame Cerulian, and this is Jedi Master Nejaa Halcyon.”

Nejaa, a man with dark hair and sharp green eyes, inclined his head in greeting. “A pleasure.”

Harry nodded in return, filing the names away for later. “Harry Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan walked over to the table, taking a seat beside Harry. “You’ve already met one of Master Cerulian’s former Padawans.”

Harry glanced between them in curiosity before looking at Obi-Wan. “Oh?”

Cerulian smiled, a glint of fondness in his eyes as he turned to Obi-Wan. “And how is Dooku these days?”

Harry blinked, looking at Obi-Wan in surprise. “Wait, Dooku? I thought Yoda was Dooku’s master.”

Cerulian let out a rich chuckle, shaking his head. “If that were the case, Dooku would be an even better Jedi than he is now. No, I was Dooku’s master. Though I won’t deny that Yoda had a heavy hand in his training.”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. “As you yourself have experienced, it’s not uncommon for particularly gifted Padawans to receive additional instruction from multiple masters.”

Cerulian leaned back slightly in his chair. “And Dooku was exceptionally gifted as a padawan, though also … stubborn.”

Obi-Wan smirked. “If half the stories my master passed along are true, I can’t imagine where he got that from.”

That earned him another amused chuckle from Cerulian. “Touché.”

Nejaa, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “Dooku’s path has been an interesting one, to say the least. And from what I hear, yours has been as well, young Skywalker.”

Harry tilted his head. “Depends on what you’ve heard.”

Nejaa gave him a knowing smile but said nothing further.

Cerulian, however, studied Harry thoughtfully. “I must admit, I was curious about you, given all the commotion surrounding your arrival.”

Harry hesitated but nodded. “I imagine there’s been plenty of talk.”

Cerulian’s gaze turned sharp yet not unkind. “Talk, yes. But the Force tells me far more than any rumor ever could.”

There was something about the way he said it that made Harry pause.

After a moment, Cerulian smiled again, shifting the mood back to something lighter. “In any case, any lessons from Yoda are worth more than their weight in azurite.” His gaze flicked to Obi-Wan, eyes twinkling. “Though I imagine your current master is a rather capable teacher as well.”

Harry grinned. “Oh, he’s alright.”

Obi-Wan sighed in long-suffering patience, shaking his head. “I see you’ve been taking my lessons about respecting your superiors to heart.”

Nejaa chuckled. “At least he’s honest.”

Cerulian’s expression turned thoughtful again. “You have potential, Harry Skywalker. Much like Dooku once did. I hope you will take your lessons seriously. I sense that the path ahead of you will not be an easy one.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly. “It never has been.”

Then Cerulian nodded. “Good. That means you’re already thinking beyond the present moment. And that, young Skywalker, is the first step to wisdom.”

Harry wasn’t sure he had much wisdom yet, but he appreciated the thought.

Obi-Wan inclined his head slightly as he sat up straighter. "It is a rare treat to see you, Master Cerulian," he said before his expression grew more serious. His gaze sharpened as he leaned forward slightly. "But what exactly brought you out of seclusion and here to see my Padawan?"

Cerulian nodded, as if he had expected the question. "It is true that the majority of my concerns once leaving Coruscant have been centered around Corellia," he admitted. "But not all Corellian Jedi—not even the most steadfast of the Green Jedi—are unsympathetic to what goes on in the rest of the galaxy."

Harry listened intently, intrigued by the conversation. He had read bits and pieces about the Green Jedi in the archives—how Corellian Jedi often followed their own traditions, separate from the main Order, and how they were sometimes viewed as unorthodox by the Council.

Cerulian continued, his voice calm but firm. "We understand that the Force cannot be viewed in isolation. The events on one planet, no matter how distant, have the potential to impact us just as much as an event on Corellia itself." He paused for a moment before shrugging. "Besides, despite you being here on Council business, this matter is not so separate from Corellia. The two of you are here investigating the threat to the senator, are you not?"

Obi-Wan’s expression didn’t shift, but there was a subtle flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes.

Cerulian turned his attention to Harry. "And you? How are you doing, young Skywalker?"

Harry blinked at the unexpected question before giving a small shrug. "I’m healing fast, which has surprised pretty much everyone, but I still feel a little restless being stuck in here. Meditating helps, though. A little."

Cerulian chuckled. "Patience is one of the more difficult lessons to learn, even for the most disciplined Jedi. And something tells me you are not naturally inclined toward patience."

Harry smirked. "You’re not wrong."

They spoke for a while, the conversation shifting between topics—Harry’s recovery, the investigation, and even a few anecdotes from Cerulian’s past experiences. The older Jedi had a way of speaking that felt … different. Like he was less concerned with formalities and more focused on simply exchanging thoughts, ideas. It was a refreshing change from the rigid structure of the Jedi Council meetings he had sat in on.

Then, after a brief lull in the conversation, Cerulian turned back to Obi-Wan. "Would you mind giving me a moment alone with your Padawan?"

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. His gaze flicked between Cerulian and Harry, clearly trying to discern the older Jedi’s intentions.

Nejaa, who had been listening quietly, chose that moment to step in. "Perhaps you can join me for a moment, Obi-Wan," he suggested. "I wanted to pay a visit to an old friend here, and I could use the company during my search for him."

Obi-Wan hesitated for a brief moment, then turned his gaze to Harry.

Harry gave a slight nod, indicating that he was fine with it.

Obi-Wan exhaled softly, then stood. "Very well. If you need me just let me know and I’ll be back before you know it," he said before giving Cerulian one last thoughtful look. Then he turned and exited the room with Nejaa.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Cerulian let out a small breath, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, Obi-Wan had asked a valid question," he mused. "It has been quite some time since I found myself involved in the greater matters of the galaxy—or even the matters here at home. Action, I have found, is a younger person’s game, and as of late I am quite content to spend most of my time in meditation."

Harry leaned back slightly in his own chair, studying the older Jedi. "Then why are you here?"

Cerulian smiled. "Because, every now and then, CorSec calls upon me to consult on certain matters. And I am not so selfish as to turn down a request for help when I am able to provide it." He paused, tilting his head. "The attack on you and your master was one such matter that prompted CorSec to reach out to me. In fact, Captain Falco herself paid me a visit, requesting my assistance directly."

Harry’s eyebrows raised slightly. "She did?"

Cerulian nodded. "She felt terrible that you had disappeared under her watch. And—" He chuckled. "Only part of that concern was about the potential of this turning into a diplomatic incident."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I can imagine that would be a bit of a headache." He then gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry that the attack disrupted your meditation."

Cerulian waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, if I let every disturbance in the galaxy disrupt my meditation, I would never meditate again." He studied Harry for a moment, his expression unreadable. "However, some disruptions are worth it … you are quite an impressive individual, young Skywalker.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the compliment.

Cerulian chuckled. "Despite my age and the distance I keep from the Order, I still try to stay informed about important events in the galaxy. My former Padawan, Count Dooku, or Master Dooku as I hear he is going by now, reaches out now and then to keep me apprised of what happens on Coruscant. Especially when a promising individual with a unique backstory arrives for training."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, looking away. He opened his mouth to protest, but Cerulian shook his head.

"There is nothing wrong with taking pride in your abilities," he said evenly. "As long as you do not let that pride turn into arrogance."

Harry hesitated, then nodded slightly. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Cerulian paused, his gaze sharp as he studied Harry. Then he leaned back in his chair and spoke again, his voice carrying a weight of experience.

"Anyways," he said, shifting back to their conversation, "I was impressed when Captain Falco relayed the facts of the attack on you are your master. In my experience—which, between the two of us, is rather significant—few fully trained Jedi, much less a partially trained Padawan, could have survived such an ordeal."

Cerulian smiled briefly before continuing. "Regardless, as I was saying—when I arrived at the site of the attack, I was intrigued. Despite almost no evidence, I could sense that you had survived the fall. And after hearing how you likely had little time to react after saving your master, I found it quite impressive."

Harry shrugged, downplaying it. "Well, it certainly wasn't without injuries. And I got captured immediately afterward, so I wouldn’t call it a total success. I guess I just got … lucky."

Cerulian tilted his head, regarding him thoughtfully. "Luck?" he repeated, almost as if testing the word. "I have lived a long life, young Skywalker. And in my experience, luck is not something I have encountered often."

Harry frowned slightly. "You don’t believe in luck?"

Cerulian let the question hang in the air for a moment before reaching into his robe. "Tell me," he said, his voice almost casual, "are you confident that your survival was due to luck … or something else?"

Harry’s eyes widened as Cerulian pulled something from the folds of his robe and set it on the table between them.

A slender piece of wood.

His wand.

Harry inhaled sharply, his body tensing in shock. His wand—his wand—the very same one he had lost after the explosion, lay before him. The polished holly wood gleamed faintly under the dim lights of the room, its phoenix feather core thrumming with a familiar warmth.

For a moment, he could only stare.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out and picked it up. The moment his fingers closed around it, a rush of warmth spread up his arm, like welcoming an old friend after a long separation.

He swallowed. "Where … how did you—?"

Cerulian watched him closely. "A curious item," he said, almost to himself. "Unlike any Jedi artifact I’ve come across, and yet it hums with energy as clearly as any kyber crystal."

Harry tightened his grip on the wand. He had been careful—so careful—not to use magic openly in front of the Jedi. Not because he thought they would forbid it, but because he wasn’t sure how they would react. The Force and magic were similar in many ways, but he still didn’t fully understand the rules of this universe, and he hadn’t wanted to risk drawing too much attention.

Harry exhaled, forcing himself to meet the older Jedi’s eyes. "Where did you find it?"

Cerulian leaned back, stroking his beard. "CorSec retrieved it from the wreckage of the explosion site. Captain Falco had it stored with the other recovered materials, but even she recognized that it was … different. When she asked for my assistance in this matter, she handed it to me, hoping I might have some insight."

His gaze turned pointed. "I must say, I do not recognize the craftsmanship. And I have studied the artifacts of many Force traditions, including those beyond the Jedi and Sith."

Harry hesitated. He could lie. He could brush it off, say it was just some relic from Tatooine, something that had sentimental value.

But somehow, he knew Cerulian would see through it.

So instead, he took a breath and went with a half-truth. "It’s … a tool from my past. Something from my home that helps me channel energy."

Cerulian hummed in understanding. "So it is an extension of yourself."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah. Something like that."

Cerulian studied him for a long moment before nodding. "I see." He gestured to the wand. "And tell me, do you intend to use it?"

Harry frowned slightly, fingers tightening around the wood. "I…" He hesitated.

He looked down at the wand in his hands, feeling the familiar pulse of magic within it.

It was a part of him—just as much as his connection to the Force was.

Finally, he looked up, determination settling in his chest. "Yes. I think I will."

Cerulian smiled slightly. "Good."

Harry blinked. "You’re … not going to tell me not to?"

Cerulian let out a soft chuckle. "I may have trained my fair share of Jedi, young Skywalker, but I am not the Jedi Council. The Force manifests in many ways. And while I may not be entirely familiar with what this is … to deny you a tool that is clearly a part of yourself would be foolish."

Harry exhaled, relieved. "Thanks."

"Of course." Cerulian said simply before looking over at Harry, his gaze was piercing. "The Force does not act without purpose. For instance, here you are—someone unlike any Jedi I have ever met. With abilities that do not seem to fit into the traditional teachings of the Order. With a tool that channels energy in ways I have never sensed before."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "So what are you saying?"

Cerulian tilted his head. "Perhaps, young Skywalker, you are not merely here by chance. Perhaps the Force has plans for you beyond what even you realize."

The words sent a chill down Harry’s spine.

Because deep down, he had always suspected that himself.

Fate and the Force had guided him here. But why?

And for what purpose?

For the first time in a long while, Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Kind Regards,

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If you like this content do not hesitate to smash that like button and subscribe. Haha but seriously if you do enjoy the story - do favorite it, other than messaging me or leaving a comment it’s the only way I know if you are enjoying the stories and chapters.

Story Note 1 – A new character! (Well technically two) Both of these characters will certainly reappear at certain points in the story however Master Cerulian will certainly have the bigger impact especially over the short term. For those of you Star Wars geniuses. Both of these characters are certainly from Legends although I’d imagine Halycon might be a little more noticeable. Although Master Cerulian was certainly Dooku’s master … although to be fair I am unsure if he was alive at this point. But have fun plans in store for him.

Story Note 2 – Obviously at some point the news of Harry’s magic was going to come out and thought this would be a fun way for it to start. Seems like an important chat that I did put some important foreshadowing in (without trying to be too blatantly obvious about)(let me know if you think you have any ideas about what is coming up based on this chapter).

Story Note 3 – A big congrats to the couple of people who guessed that Green Jedi were going to make an appearance! Although definitely admit that guessing Master Cerulian might have been a little difficult.

A large thanks to those of you out there who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you all are enjoying them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or have reached out to me directly.

Disclaimer – It has come to my attention recently that I unfortunately do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars or their respective universes. Who knew.


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