The screams and sounds of blaster fire filled his head as darkness closed in around him, out of all the things that could have ended him; he was shot in the chest before his killer muttered "Uncivilized".

His defeat at the hands of Obi-Wan Kenobi was not only infuriating, but also down right degrading. He was a Kaleesh Warrior, the leader of the Kaleesh people but he now was nothing more than metal parts and burning organs.

'If only I had kept my promise to Lithal,' He thought as his heart slowly stopped beating 'I wouldn't have been turned into this…thing.'

Given that his downfall was not because of luck nor was it that his foe had more skill, no, Obi-Wan had the one thing that had bested him time and time again. That enigma called the Force, the power that had crushed his armored chest and forced him to have that infuriating cough!

He was the Jedi hunter, collector of lightsabers; he used the weapons of the Jedi against them in battle. He was built to wield the lightsabers; his systems ran millions, if not trillions of calculations in less than a nanosecond that kept the cyborg general from cutting himself in half.

But now, here he was. Only his will was keeping his heart beating, though that was crumbling fast.

'If I die then my purpose and will to my people is dead.' Grievous thought before he let the darkness of his people's 'Hell' take him.

The cyborg general waited, the blackness was vast but not even painful. He had brought his people shame, had he not? He had fallen from grace and into the deepest and most punishing pit that he deserved. Yet, he just floated in the void of black, nothing was happening.

"Maybe the silence is my punishment, slowly driving me mad." Grievous mussed as he floated, accepting his fate.

"I don't think so, Grievous." A voice came from out of the darkness, one that was all too familiar.

"Kenobi, so you have stumbled upon my spirit, what will it take for me to be rid of you?!" The cyborg demon snarled, sending a burning glare with his yellow, reptilian eyes.

"Peace, Grievous, I haven't come to torment you. You've have been tormented by your past, that is all you need as punishment." The old general of the Republic said sagely.

"Then why have you come here?" The General of the droid army asked, his patience slowly crumbling.

"Grievous, the force has…commissioned…me to ask if you want another chance at life, one where you can follow through on your promise to your wife." The old Jedi spoke.

If he got another chance at life, so he could fulfill his promise that he made to Lithal, but the consequences?

"What do I get out of it?" Grievous snapped, his eyes narrowing.

"A life, one that you never had because of a war torn galaxy, but only you can live it. But, someone will have to be switched with you for you to live this life." Grievous's old foe said.

"Who will I be replacing?"

"A boy named Harry Potter; he will take your place here while you handle his conflicted world."

Grievous looked at the old man, one the one hand he could finish his promise but on the other was the fact that he would be taking care of another person's problems.

Begrudgingly, Grievous accepted only to be blinded and blacked out.

The darkness of the cramped cupboard brightened as a slit in the door opened. Grievous's yellow eyes glared at the woman that shouted at him to get up and make breakfast. It had taken him two whole days to heal this body's wounds and now this woman was telling him to make food like a servant?!

Grievous snorted as he reached over and picked up the handle of one of his four greatest 'trophies' that he had found under the boy's bed, the force must have hidden other secrets around. Gripping the handle of Adi Gallia's lightsaber, he got up and pushed the cupboard door open. The boy's relatives were going to feel the pain of hurting and treating Grievous's previous self.

"BOY! Get breakfast on the~"

Snap-Hiss!

Grievous beheaded the fat man in his seat before turning his attention to the woman who was gapping at him in shock. The hum of the green blade filled the air as he took a step towards the thin woman, a sadistic grin starting to form as he started spinning the lightsaber in his hand.

"The name is Grievous!" Grievous hissed as the green light of the burning blade filled his vision.

Clipping the black cloak into place on his new armor, Grievous looked up at the burning remains of the house that was once called Number 4. The remains of the boy's relatives would burn with the house, no evidence would remain.

Turning, Grievous walked away. His cloak remained closed, never opening in the front, if it had; it would have shown the blood red silk insides and the pockets that held his trophies.

The first thing was to find some better armor, his body of flesh and bones could and/or would die from age or mortal wounds. If he needed to, he would build a cybernetic suit, not that he needed it at the moment.

Remembering metal prison that he had been put into during the Clone Wars, Grievous wanted something more humanoid than insectoid. But that could wait; he needed to get a reputation for himself, one that included bounty hunting.

Several Years later-Age; 13

The Russian Ministry of Magic was bustling with people; one of them stood above them all, the cloak of black fluttering slightly as the figure moved quickly across the atrium. Stopping at a floo elevator, the towering figure said "Minister's Office"

The emerald green flames ignited and he stepped into them, appearing on the other side. The secretary only gave him a look before motioning him into the office, nodding his covered head; the figure entered and closed the door behind him.

"Ah, Grievous, good to see you again" The Russian Minister, Valdemar Karkaroff, said in perfect English with a slight Russian accent.

Grievous said nothing; instead he put a bloody bag on the Minister's desk. The Russian opened the bag and raised his eyebrow; the head of one of the nameless but feared gang leaders was in the bag.

"Usual pay, as per our deal, Minister" Grievous said flatly, his cloak opening slightly to show the skeletal metal clawed hand holding out an old bottle of vodka out.

The Minister took the bottle before nodding, "Yes, your payment was transferred the moment you showed me the head. Took the warders and dwarfs' weeks to get it right, the vodka is appreciated."

Grievous turned to leave, when the Russian said "Could I interest you in another job, per chance?"

"What kind of job" It wasn't a question, the Russian understood that.

"The French Minister has been getting death threats, more than any normal Minister should. His family is being threatened daily and he is willing to have a sort of security to protect his family."

"So, he wants me to play bodyguard and what do I get out of it?" Grievous growled darkly.

"You get double the pay of your current job and any extra goodies that you require." The Russian Minister said, his tone telling that he was serious about this.

"And if I accept this…'job'…how do I know that he won't betray me and make me a criminal?"

"Sebastian Delacour is a man of his word and honor, Grievous, and you're the best man for the job. His wife and two daughters are half veela, you are not affected by their allure, any other man would fail the moment they entered their presence." Valdemar explained, Grievous only snorted before turning to the fire place.

"I'll head right over then, Minister. Good Day" Grievous said curtly before tossing a pinch of floo powder into the fire place and said clearly "French Minister's Office"

Grievous let his magic flow through his cybernetic arm, checking it for any signs of damage or viruses that could have infected it. He had lost his right arm in a skirmish near the Russian/Chinese border, his entire arm was cut off at the ball and socket joint, leaving him to create his new arm with his magic, while he was still fighting and losing blood from the wound.

The metal arm split down the middle, just like his original cyborg's arm. Flexing the three fingered hands, Grievous reattached the two halves before pulling the cloak over his arm. He was tired of people staring at it, it was just an arm made of metal that's it.

His body had hit a massive growth spurt as well, reaching the height of 2.16 meters and 150 pounds, he was not only physically powerful, he was magically powerful as well. Having taken the lessons that Dooku had drilled into him to heart, Grievous had felt more powerful and felt something else, a pull and push of something.

Grievous had also followed the newspaper called the Daily Prophet, headlines read like Harry Potter still lost!, Boy-Who-Lived still missing! Or his personal favorite; Harry Potter, Murdered or Kidnapped?

Grievous had seen his pictures around, a boy with bright emerald green eyes, raven hair and a very revealing scar on the forehead. He had changed as he only had one thing in common with the picture, the raven hair. His eyes had change to Kaleesh alien yellow, the scar was nothing more than a faint outline. His firm face showed a warrior's look, a true hunter and leader of a people.

Though there was another name circling around the grapevine, Albus Dumbledore. The 'Wizard of the Light' had led the campaign to find him from, as he said from the excerpt that Grievous had read "The men or women that have taken Harry from us".

He tossed that paper aside, he wasn't going to sit around and wait. Not that he needed to be told, he was on assignment at that moment. The French magical school was before him, the towers and lands sprawled in every direction. But his assignment was being harassed by a group of men, he dropped from the tower he was gripping and landed lightly behind the gang.

Pulling the hilt of Shaak Ti's lightsaber out of his cloak, Grievous move his cloak out of the way of his cybernetic arm. The gang turned and face him and froze upon seeing his arm, his assignment only stared into his eyes.

"You boys better not be harassing my client or you have a lot to answer too" Grievous hissed, his finger slowly moving towards the activation button on his lightsaber.

"You shouldn't be here either, so beat it." One of the men snapped back, his hand on his wand.

"Ah, now I see, hit wizards and mercenaries. This makes my job so much easier." Grievous activated his lightsaber, the blue blade humming as he made his way towards the paid men.

The first guy fell, his body cut from shoulder to hip. Switching his blue weapon to the other hand, Grievous grabbed the second guy's face and crushed it, brain matter and skull fragments flying everywhere.

"Kill Him!" The leader of this gang shouted, sending a killing curse at him.

Grievous tossed the corpse up and caught it again as he brought it into the killing curses path. The green light splattered against the body, the lightsaber was thrown and slashed the man's head off. The lightsaber returned to his hand as he spun and sent the corpse into another attacker.

The remaining attackers all shouted "BOMBARDA MAXEMIA!"

The explosion covered him; the men lowered their wands and turned towards the woman when they heard something coming from the pit.

SNAP-HISS!

SNAP-HISS!

Another blue blade appeared and then a green one erupted into life. The blades started spinning in a whirlwind of color, before the men started screaming as they were cut to bits. Grievous stopped attacking and deactivated his weapons, turning to the woman and nodding his head before disappearing in a swirl of his cloak.

One Year Later-Age; 14

His black metal claws gripped the top of the carriage as it flew to who knows where, his eyes narrowed against the wind and turbulence. Whoever thought that having six massive pegasi pull the carriage was insane! His new armored skeleton was gripping the top of the magical carriage like a scared cat to a ceiling, his cloak flapping and billowing behind him.

Only a month after saving his assignment, his body was blown apart because of his idiocy. His new body was the design from a picture he had seen from the internet called 'Vampire Grievous' from what it looked like a comic book.

The black jaw and vampire like appearance only added to the aura that Grievous had. The reptilian tongue was new, he licked his metal teeth as creepily as he could, practice makes perfect after all. He may look like a vampire but he had no thirst for blood, though his cloak was torn and ripped at the edges to make it more sinister.

The carriage started slowing down, if that was even true from the top of the stupid thing because it felt like the same speed up there. But he saw the castle below and unhooked himself from the top of the flying carriage, jumping towards the castle.

Grabbing his cloak, Grievous flared it open and to those on the ground, it looked like a massive bat like creature had blocked out the sun. Closing his 'wings', Grievous plummeted towards the earth, the wind rushing against his metal armor. The ground drew closer and closer, at the very last moment he opened his cloak and gracefully landed next to the area that the carriage would land.

The carriage landed with a rattling of wheels and dust, Grievous silently opened the door before he disappearated onto one of the towers. The headmistress and him and an agreement, he would need a ride to protect his client; in return, Grievous would open the door and watch over the proceedings for this TriWizard Tournament.

The headmaster of this school called Hogwarts was none other than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian "To-Many-Kriffing-Blasted-Names-to-Remember" Dumbledore. The old man had looked at him before turning his attention to the French, this intrigued him to no end but it could wait.

The hours passed until the welcoming feast, Grievous was standing on the magical ceiling like a bat and somethings like this quirk would not leave, no matter how hard he tried to stop. He watched them, only then did something odd happen.

The ceiling gave out.

Grievous fell towards the ground, the glass shatters fell with him. In an instant, his cloak was open so none of the shards of glass hit the occupants below him. A spell hit the shattered ceiling, repairing it as if it didn't break in the first place. Grievous flipped around and connected his feet against the glass once more, his magic sticking him to it like a magnet.

The headmaster welcomed the newcomers before announcing that the search for Harry Potter had reviled a massive clue into his disappearance.

"…And this clue was a piece of a one-of-a-kind cloak, a cloak that is being worn by a certain 'guardian' that is hanging from the ceiling." The old fool said and everybody looked up.

Grievous hissed in unbridled rage, dropping from the ceiling and landing on the stone floor below in the blink of an eye.

"That was not your call to make and I am not 'Harry Potter' anymore, fool. I am General Grievous and you will refer to me as such!" The cybernetic Kaleesh warrior boomed before apperating to the top of the clear ceiling and walking away from the glowing glass mirror.

The blackened skeletal left hand of Grievous' armor clenched around the throat of a backwater gangster, the creaking of the man's neck was clearly heard across the room. He was not happy, the old fool had no right; Dumbledore wasn't his guardian!

The gangster's neck finally gave out with a loud cracking snap; Grievous gave the body a cold glare as he muttered "You lasted longer than your fellows by 3.8 seconds…but not enough to save your life."

He dropped the body and vanished in a swirl of his cloak, reappearing above the Scottish castle/school. The cool night air moved over his armor and made his cloak flutter, somethings never change.

The next several weeks passed quickly, Grievous noticed that the Hogwarts school population keeping their distance from his client, only three students got close and became her friends. That all changed on the night of the drawing, Grievous was hanging in his usual spot above the student body.

The goblet of fire was in the forefront of the staff table, burning with an almost alien light in the dark hall. The fire grew before a burnt piece of paper shot out of the cup; the headmaster of Hogwarts caught it and read "Fleur Delacour!"

Then came "Viktor Krum!"

Then for Hogwarts, it was "Cedric Diggory!"

The goblet, however, spat out another name like it was a sour lemon, the old fool caught it and paused. Grievous slowly crouched, his eyes gleaming in the dark, watching the aged wizard.

"Harry…err, I mean Grievous." Albus Dumbledore coughed.

The hall was quiet at that then the old man said in a firmer tone "General Grievous!"

Grievous dropped, spinning gracefully as a cat and landed on his feet, making everyone but the staff, flinch at the sound of metal meeting stone. Grievous moved towards the back room, his eyes promising pain and destruction to anyone that came near him.

Entering the small room, Grievous moved quietly behind his client and made a sound that told her that he was there and not to do anything. Fleur Delacour tapped his armored chest to let him know that she heard and understood. As the bodyguard of Minister Delacour's daughter, Grievous had to get to know his client and make some arrangements so she wouldn't die from a heart attack because he appeared out of nowhere to defend her.

Moving into the shadows, Grievous studied the other champions, Cedric was probably his number one competitor, if Hogwarts was the best school in all of Magical Britain. Viktor Krum was a Quidditch seeker, not a duelist, but the way he was built showed that he was a very good brawler.

"This is outrageous!" Someone shouted as the owner of the voice got closer.

In came Fleurs' Headmistress, the Bulgarian headmaster, Dumbledore and two of his fellow staff members and the ministry's overseers. Grievous snorted as he saw the delegation of people, how could he not.

"Grievous, did you…" Dumbledore started to ask but Grievous stepped into the light and moved his cloak so everyone could see his armored cybernetic body.

"I was on a mission, a job to protect my client and I was dragged into this, so go as someone else those questions, Headmaster Dumbledore." Grievous spat venomously, towering over everyone, even Madame Maxime was shorter than Grievous.

This made everyone shudder in fright; Grievous lowered himself so he was in a more comfortable position at 6 feet 11 inches instead of his height of 7 foot 1 inch. His leg joints could only hold his true height for so long because of the technology available at the present time. His tongue licked his metal teeth before he moved back into the shadows, his eyes the only thing that people could see.

The others were quiet, their opinions kept to themselves for the time being. This wasn't a fair tournament but it had to go on.