Dawn crept across the canyon in slow, molten gold. Where once there had been barren rock, now stood the first bones of Hogwarts, a ring of stone towers that shimmered with living veins of Uneti wood and Force-crystal lattice. Each pillar hummed, whispering like a choir at prayer.
Per Te watched from a high ledge, robes billowing against the wind. His hands were calloused, his beard flecked with white, but his eyes, bright as twin suns, gleamed with the thrill of a new equation waiting to be solved.
He raised his wand, murmuring an incantation in a tongue born of two worlds. The wand-tip glowed. The ground shivered. Runes flared across the soil like constellations made of molten glass. Slowly, stones floated into alignment, merging without seams.
"Good," he breathed. "Harmony, not domination."
R6-A7 rolled beside him, recording the construction logs. "Master Per Te, structural symmetry is at ninety-two percent. Recommendation: increase Force flux at node twelve."
"Thank you, R6," he said, tapping the droid affectionately. "Increase the pulse frequency by 0.7. Let's see if the Force agrees."
The pulse deepened, spreading through the canyon like a heartbeat. Above them, the sky shimmered, and the air rippled with music.
For a moment, Per Te could almost hear laughter, echoes of voices not yet born. Children learning. Teachers guiding. Life returning to a galaxy that had long forgotten how to nurture.
Later on
He sat cross-legged before the central spire, a bowl of kyber fragments before him. Each shard resonated differently, tuned to individual emotions. When touched by magic, they sang.
He waved his hand, no wand this time, and whispered, "Reparo."
The shards merged, glowing a deep emerald. He let the Force weave through his fingertips, binding crystal and will.
His journal hovered nearby, quill scratching automatically.
Experiment 324: Kyber-Phoenix Core Fusion successful. Emotional stability achieved through sustained meditation. Possible future use: wands for students attuned to both wonder and discipline.
He leaned back, watching the glow settle.
This was his joy, not mastery, but understanding. Every success felt like rediscovering how to breathe.
=====
POV: Apprentice Elen Tarris
Elen ran through the half-built halls barefoot, laughter echoing. The air smelled of wet grass and wood. Around her, other early apprentices carved runes, tended glowing gardens, and argued over spell-formulae.
Per Te passed among them like a patient current, never barking orders. He only asked questions.
"What do you feel when you lift the stone?"
"What emotion guides your spell?"
"What is the difference between will and wish?"
Elen had no answer at first, until she saw him train.
He practiced daily, blending the physical grace of a Jedi with the focus of a wizard. His movements were a dance: wand and hand in motion, Force and incantation flowing as one. She watched him lift pillars with a whisper, carve symbols with a flick, and then laugh softly when his own robes caught fire.
"Even now, he treats failure like an old friend," she murmured to herself.
=====
POV: Per Te Vivebo
At dusk, he stood before the gathered apprentices, fifteen of them now, and raised his hand. The spires behind him caught the fading sunlight, reflecting it in shades of amber and violet.
"My friends," he said, "you have all felt the world's cruelty. You've been told you do not belong. Yet here, in this place, you are found."
He walked among them, eyes kind but resolute. "The galaxy calls itself balanced, Light against Dark. But I tell you: balance is not two forces locked in war. It is harmony in motion."
He gestured toward the half-built citadel. "This will be our sanctuary. A home for every outcast, every thinker, every soul that asks why instead of how much."
The apprentices bowed their heads. Some wept quietly.
He smiled. "We build not to rule, but to remember. Let this be our first spark."
=====
POV: R6-A7
The droid hovered near the archives, recording everything. Its optical sensors flickered as it scanned the open journal.
Entry 412: The structure hums with resonance. Students show rapid attunement to hybrid Force-Magic systems. I must begin dividing teachings soon, four paths of focus, four ways of understanding the same truth.
R6 beeped. "Four paths?"
Per Te turned, smiling. "Not yet, my friend. But soon. Every mind deserves a reflection that matches its heart."
=====
POV: Per Te Vivebo, Years 30–35
Hogwarts continued to rise. Floating bridges connected towers of stone and Uneti wood. Lanterns of pure Force-light illuminated streets below, where families and craftspeople built homes from discarded starship hulls and enchanted brick.
The city thrived like an ecosystem. Children learned to read runes beside fountains that hummed with kyber light. Former soldiers learned patience tending luminous gardens. Ex-pirates crafted protective charms for travelers.
And Per Te, older now, his beard fuller, eyes brighter, walked among them as teacher, builder, healer.
He no longer dreamed of returning to his old universe. His life was here now, among those who had no one else.
=====
POV: The City at Night
From orbit, the lights of the settlement formed a pattern, a sigil spiraling outward from the heart of the citadel. Pilots passing through hyperspace often reported seeing it flicker through the veil of stars: a city floating on serenity itself.
Rumors spread. Some said it was a myth. Others whispered of a place where the Force and something older intertwined.
Jedi archivists took note. Sith agents searched in vain.
But Hogwarts remained unseen, its presence cloaked by the founder's growing mastery, not yet the time seal, but a veil woven through the Force, half-concealing, half-protecting.
=====
POV: Per Te Vivebo
One quiet evening, he stood on a balcony overlooking the city. The wind carried the scent of Uneti blossoms and the faint hum of lightsabers training in the courtyards below.
He whispered to himself, "If this is a dream… may I never wake."
The Force stirred gently around him, as if answering, Then dream on, Per Te Vivebo.
He smiled, turned, and walked back toward the hall, toward his students, toward the work still unfinished.
The sound of creation continued.