Darth Marrs - Revenge of the Wizard

Revenge of the Wizard

A Fanfic by Darth Marrs,

Author's Notes: When I started this, the Master of Death Harry was not yet a clich. Now it is. So, be warned I use that clich. It grants Harry a long life, but he is not super-powerful by any means, nor will he always win his battles. I hope you enjoy.

And no, I don't own either of the properties.

The Wrath of Peleus' Son, the direful Spring

Of all the Grecian Woes, O Goddess, sing!

That Wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy Reign

The Souls of mighty Chiefs untimely slain;

Whose Limbs unbury'd on the naked Shore

Devouring Dogs and hungry Vultures tore.

Since Great Achielles and Atrides strove,

Such was the Sov'reign Doom, and such the will of Jove.

Homer's Iliad, by Alexander Pope

Chapter One: Living in Despayre

"Tell us the story again, Daddy!" Lily asked.

Slave Terran-2448DZ opened his eyes as the grating claxon rang through the hot, stuffy air. The first thing he saw, just like every other morning of his enslavement, was the crisscrossed metal bars supporting the cot directly above him. Already a pair of heavily calloused feet was swinging over the side in response to the bitter wake-up call. When he also sat up, he glanced across the length of the cavernous metal room at twenty rows of cots stacked twenty levels high and twenty cots deep. In all them, other people were waking up. They were all nakedthe room was filled with a sea of stacked flesh comprised of eight thousand people who once had hope, but now had nothingnot even the dignity of clothing.

When he stood, he could feel the whole structure vibrating under the combined weight of so many people all moving at once. The woman in front of him avoided his gaze and instead looked down at her feet, as nude as he was. She was the fourth to inhabit the cot next to him in the months since they'd been there; all the others died either of disease, accident or execution. She was perhaps nineteen or twenty and thin, with a pinched, stressed face. Her lank hair had been cut short, like the rest of them.

Unlike the others, Slave Terran-2448DZ's hair grew back the very next day every time until it was the previous length, and then stopped growing. However, there were too many other slaves for their masters to care about that one strange aberration. It was a long wait, staring at the poor girl's bare backside, while ahead of them the other slaves started climbing down the stairs.

The moment they reached the ground level, their overseers force-marched them into two groupsmen in one and women in the other, to their new day. The day began with a march into a long room lined with a sunken, latrine-like toilet of running water on either side. This was one of only two bathroom breaks they hadpeople learned either to hold it, or mess themselves over the course of the day.

He squatted down like the rest to relieve himself, no longer even conscious of the mass of sweating, stinking men around him doing the same. He had a name once, of course. All those around him did. But to their new, brutal masters, names carried persona, history and respect, and so no names were used, ever. To ensure he never forgot that, his slave name was branded into the flesh of his left forearm, just like all the others.

When they relieved themselves without the benefit of toilet paper, they were marched into the second part of their routine. He closed his eyes and held his breath as tepid water smelling and tasting of bitter chemicals shot up from the floor, down from the ceiling and out from the sides of the narrow passage. They did not stand in it, though. Rather, the column of slaves marched through it, with their motion serving as the means by which the spray reached everything.

Slave Terran-2448DZ took the opportunity to wipe his body with his hands in an effort to get himself as clean as he could. Those around him who had not given up all hope did the same. The last few feet the water switched to hot, dry air that blew away the moisture, leaving them mostly clean and dry. After that waited rows and rows of plain, unremarkable orange single-piece jumpsuits, one-size fits all.

He got dressed with the others and followed as they were then marched by their overseers into the mess-hall. The food was a gelatinous, foul-tasting goo, but surprisingly they were given a lot of it. Granted, they were only fed twice daily, but the meals were substantial enough that Slave Terran-2448DZ did not suffer too badly. While their overseers were cruel and inhumane, they were also dreadfully efficient. Underfed slaves did not produce as much, and so all slaves were fed.

Ten minutes to eat, and then they were once again marching out of their dormitory. The air outside the gigantic metal cube tasted bitter, hot and dry. The sky above was more purple than blue, and as far as he could look, the slave saw only wasteland. It was not a desert, for a desert implied natural forces and ecology in action. No, what they emerged into was the ravaged, violated surface of a once verdant world raped of all resources.

Large, hovering sleds waited to take them hundreds of clicks to where they would work the day away. Overhead, dominating the horizon, was their ultimate projecta man-made moon stretching it's skeletal infrastructure from the horizon to the centre of the sky, staring down ominously with one great, hollow eye.

"Welcome to Despayre," Slave Terran-2448DZ, formerly known as Harry Potter, whispered to himself as he looked up at the Death Star.

~~Revenge~~

~~Revenge~~

When Harry saw his first Wookiee, the word 'Sasquatch' came to mind. Until that moment, their only encounters with the aliens who invaded Earth were with the humanoid-shaped creatures in white armour, with their vicious blasters that could stun or kill with equal ease. But the Wookiees were something new and fascinating, like a giant, bipedal golden retriever or Labrador dog that could bark, whistle and growl in a way that evidently was a language.

Their particular overseer was a seven-foot tall female named Shewtalla. Her fur hung in golden brown clumps from her body, and she carried the smell of a very large wet dog. Harry suspected she was given no more time to groom in the morning than they were.

He only knew she was female because of a pair of pink nipples that were barely visible through the fur on her chest. She did not have breasts as such, but from the way the other Wookiees treated her, those pink nipples seemed to be something her people respected. Few of the other Wookiees had them, though many others were referred to as female. Harry could only guess that she had had young at some point. It made him wonder where her young were.

The alien invaders did not speak any language Harry had ever heard of, despite having learned a dozen over his years as both an Auror and as an Enforcer with the International Confederation of Wizards. In fact, he could lift a language right from someone's mind using a Legilimency technique he learned from a magical linguistics professor from the Escola Nacional de Magia in Brazil.