Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter, W.I.T.C.H., Final Fantasy 7, Final Fantasy 7 Advent Children, Code Lyoko, Ben 10, The Life and Times of Juniper Lee, American Dragon Jake Long, My Life As a Teenage Robot, Shadowrun RPG, Starship Troopers RPG, Dungeons & Dragons, various D20 sources, any of the characters therein, or whatever else the reader may recognize as coming from a TV show, movie, book, video game, or music video. This story is meant as an uber crossover. It is written for the enjoyment of others and to get this creative monkey off my frikken back that has been plaguing me for the past three months! So please, whoever you are, don't sue me. I have no money anyway. SHOOT ME! SHOOT ME NOW! This is also going to be a self insert. Don't like it, don't read it!

Warning: The following story contains graphic descriptions of torture, mutilation, intense violence, and maybe some sexuality, I haven't decided yet. For safety's sake this fic is rated M.

Thunderstruck: Chapter 1

He sat alone in the dark and the near silence. The only sounds that reached his ears were those of dripping water, the occasional scream of a fellow prisoner, and his own breathing. As a prisoner of Azkaban he was not permitted much light. Not that it truly mattered. He had no eyes to see with anyway. All that were left were two burned out pits where expressive green eyes once shone forth. Those damn guards! They were the ones who did this to him! Ever since that laughable farce of a trial and his imprisonment, he had recieved "special " treatment at the hands of the prison staff. As the "Boy Who Betrayed " it was assured. Torture instruments that had not seen the light of day for almost two hundred years were dusted off especially for him.

The rest of his body wasn't much better. At one point, some of the guards thought it would be a laugh riot to remove the young man's left arm. He still had his eyes then. He would never forget the look of maniacle glee on their faces when one of them took a rusty saw and slowly began his fun. And that was only the begining. His right arm and both legs were shredded to the bone renduring them useless. As they became infected, he had received only enough medical attention to keep him alive. It was plainly obvious that they all wanted him to suffer as much as possible. Frankly, it was surprising that they left him his manhood. Some things, he supposed, were almost sacred among some men.

"Hey, Potter !"

Startled, he jerked his head to the right, towards the sound of the voice. He recognized it as one of the guards.

" Ya gotta visitor, traitor!" the guard spat, banging his short club against the bars of the cell.

Albus Dumbledore stepped closer and dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand. As the guard walked away, Prof. Dumbledore took a moment to reflect on his dissapointment in the young man he had come to see. Dismissing such thoughts as counter productive, he stepped closer. Peering through the bars he felt a grim sense of satisfaction. Now, young Mr. Potter would never get the chance to become another Voldemort.

"Hello, Mr. Potter" he said calmly.

"Dumbledore. What the Hell do you want?" Harry groaned. "This is the third damn time you've come to torture me with your 'dissapointed grandfather' act. It's getting old, even for you."

"Now, now Mr. Potter. You know very well that it is my responsibility to see to it that you have no opportunity to escape."

"Escape?" Harry asked incredulously. "My left arm is gone from the shoulder, my other limbs beyond any magical means of healing, and, in case you haven't noticed, I am now Blind you senile twit! I don't even have my magic anymore due to that ritual you pulled out of your ass."

"I am quite sure that even with these difficulties, someone as dark as you have become would be capable of finding a means to escape. After all, anyone who would murder their last remaining relatives-"

"For the last fucking time, old man I didn't kill them! I wasn't even allowed any verataserum at the trial!"

"Now surely, Mr. Potter, you don't expect me to believe you. Whatever you may say, it was your wand that was found to have cast three succesive avada kadavra curses. There was also the widely known fact that you hated the Dursleys. There was no need for any verataserum. It was quite obvious to everyone."

"Bullshit! Not everyone has betrayed me! The Weasleys, except for Ron, Ginny, and Percy still believe in me! Hermione, Luna, and Neville support me as well. Hell, even ol' Mad-Eye, Tonks and Remus do. Someday, the rest of the wizarding world will know and regret it with all their hearts. And when you all come crawling on your knees for me to forgive you, I'll just laugh and spit in your faces. After all, Professor, there's only so much slander and hatred one is willing to tollerate. So just save your breath and leave me alone you useless old goat!"

"Indeed, they foolishly cling to the illusion of your innocence. For that they are generally riddiculed and ostricized by most everyone else. Sadly, I was forced to expell Mad-Eye, Remus, and Nymphadora from the Order as well as the Weasleys with the exception of young Ronald and Ginevra. Ms Granger has refused to return to Hogwarts and has snapped her own wand in my face saying that if she could not freely see her "brother" as she called you, than she was no longer interested in maintaining her status as a witch. Sad to see her waste her potential by choosing to be a muggle. Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Longbottem have transfered to Beauxbatons as, oddly enough, the French seem to believe in your innocence. Well, it matters not.Your execution is but a month away."

"Execution? I was given a life sentence in Azkaban!"

"True. Minister Fudge, however, has wisely decided that it was too dangerous to permit your continued existance. He has arranged for a public beheading to take place in Hogsmead. Due to their foolish belief in you, it has been decided to place all of your public supporters under house arrest for the next five weeks to prevent any public disturbances. Eventually, they shall see the error of their ways and be welcomed back into the fold. So do not worry on their account, though I doubt you are capable of it anymore. Soon you will have all the company you desire, in Hell. Good bye for the final time, Mr. Potter." With that last parting shot, Prof. Albus Dumbledore left Harry alone in the dark once more.

For the first time in his life, Harry found himself almost completely without hope. Throughout his life with the Dursleys, they had failed to break him. While maintaining an outward meek appearance, he had disciplined himself to the fact that once he had become an adult, he would never have to see his horrible relatives ever again. Every time Duddly and his gang caught him during their games of "Harry Hunting" and through the beatings that followed, he had kept that hope alive. Every time Vernon had taken his belt to him for not finishing his chores in a satisfactory manner, he had kept that hope alive. Every time Petunia had talked trash about his Parents, he had kept that hope alive. When Hagrid had given him his Hogwarts letter he felt that his prayers had finally been answered. Now, it had been completely shattered. His head fell to his chest as he choked back a sob.

What would his parents say? He doubted if this scenario had ever crossed their minds. After all, what are the chances of your only child being framed for murder, tortured mercilessly, before being publically executed? Harry would have bet his Firebolt that his father would have wanted him to pursue a career as an auror or a professional seeker. His mother, on the other hand, probably would have wanted Harry to become either a famous healer or a scholer. Thats what parents usually want for their children isn't it? The chance to live a long wonderfull happy life and to want for nothing. To experiance love and the chance to hold their own children in their loving arms.

Even more depressed, Harry's mind drifted back to the "trial". It was obvious it was supposed to go only one way. The looks on peoples faces were a dead givaway. From minister Fudge was glee at the removal of a thorn in his side. From Dumbledore was dissapointment at the thought of Harry becoming another would be dark lord. From Snape was a smug little smile at the thought of his most hated rival's son dying a disgracefull death. From Ron was the look of satisfaction at being the center of attention for a change as one of the "witnesses" against him. From Ginny was loathing at the thought that she had once fancied him. From most of the others it was a mix of screaming for his head and throwing things at him.

At least Harry had the satisfaction that his surragate sister Hermione had never wavered in her belief of his innocence. Throughout the trial, she had sat by and whispered words of incouragement to him. Mrs. Weasley was predictably crying for his sake as Mr. Weasley was pale but firm in standing by his side. The twins were, as always joking and goofing around, though he understood that it was for his sake that they put on a brave front. Moody, Tonks, and Remus had spoken on his behalf though they were laughed and jeered at by the crowd. Bill and Charlie were glaring furiously at Ron and Ginny as they testified against their former friend. Neville and Luna were unfortunetly unable to attend due to their respective guardians wishes to protect them from the angry mobs.

After the verdict had been read and Harry was escorted from the courtroom, he was treated to the sight of Ron and Ginny being scolded by their family. Finally, Ron apparently said something terrible and Ginny laughed as the rest of the Weasleys gaped in astonishment and disgust. It looked like the last straw for Hermione as she back-handed Ron hard enough to lay him on the floor with a huge purple-black bruise spreading rapidly across the side of his face. Ginny tried to defend Ron by swinging at her but was caught off guard by Charlie grabbing her fist and bending it behind her back. As the guards dragged Harry out of sight, he had the pleasure of hearing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley publically disowning the two children that had shamed them so much with their dishonor.

' What the Hell Harry?'' he thought to himself. 'Giving up already! No way!'' He couldn't do that! He couldn't shame the memory of his own parents like that! He couldn't shame Sirius! He was a Potter damnit! Whether he made it out of this alive or not, it didn't matter. Before he had died, Sirius had told him many stories about the past exploits of the Potter clan. One thing they all had in common, was the fact that, while not always successful, no true Potter gave up in the face of great trouble. As one of his military ancestors put it. "A Potter isn't neccessarily expected to succeed. A Potter is expected to die trying! Chin up! On the bounce! And always trying!"

With that last thought, Harry began his meditation exercises. Hermione had bought him a book on occlumency just after he got back home from Hogwarts the previous summer. Not surprisingly, Snape hadn't really put any effort into teaching him, as he had discovered after practically devouring the text. It was far more complicated than clearing your mind. No, one had to spend days, perhaps weeks learning to center oneself, in preperation for even the first steps. Harry practiced whenever a spare moment presented itself. Now, it was a necessity. He wasn't sure how, but aparently, the combination of occlumency and his curse scar had made him resistant to the pressence of the dementors. It was about damn time this scar began to pay some dividends! Another odd fact, was that when he was brought into the prison, his connection to Moldy-Voldy was aparrently cut-off. Maybe it was the wards and the proximity of so many dementors that did it. Whatever. Harry didn't care so long as that inbred moron wasn't privy to his thoughts or able to torment him.

His exercises now complete, Harry made himself as comfortable as he could before drifting off to sleep. Once more, as had happened so many nights since his incarceration, his dreams were filled with the images of a lovely red-headed angel he had never met, yet felt he knew so well.

Candracar

The Oracle frowned deeply. It had been many centuries since the last time he had been this worried. Canracar was still recovering frow the war with the fallen Keeper Nerissa and already a dire situation had come up. If Harry Potter did not survive, no one would be able to stop Riddle from reviving the greatest calamity to ever exist. A calamity so great, that the last time it had appeared, it had almost rendered the Earth a lifeless wasteland.

"Jenova" he wispered.

The foul word sent a shiver down even his spine. So many thousands of years had passed and the Earth had changed so much since Jenova was thought to have been destroyed. The Oracle had known that a few pieces had survived, preserved, but had hoped that they would never be found. He had not counted on anyone finding Hojo's and Professor Gast's old journals in the buried remains of Nibelheim. But now one of Tom Riddle's servants had discovered the buried basement lab of the ancient Shinra mansion. Lucius Malfoy, while a mostly unimaginative man, had known an opportunity for reward when he saw one. And now Tom Riddle, the very last descendant of one of Sepheroth's remnants, sought the remains of Jenova in order to bring the whole of Earth under his thumb. All those horrible rituals he had put himself through had the unexpected side affect of increasing the power of the Sepheroth DNA in his system. He didn't realize what Sepheroth's true goal had been.

And now, Harry Potter, the last descendant of Cloud Strife and Tifa Lockheart was horribly maimed, and facing execution on false charges. He needed help and lots of it. It was time for a new age on Earth. A new order. A new Rule. It was Harry's destiny to lead the world into this new age of hope and prosperity. So if he needed help, he would get it! After all, the Oracle knew that Cloud and Tifa's descendants would be very special. It was this same bloodline that had given rise to King Arthur. So it was only fitting that Harry would one day be a great hero.

The Guardians of the Veil glanced nervously at each other as they stood before the Congregation of Candracar. Newly victorious over the traitor Nerissa only a few weeks before, they were very concerned about the Oracle's apparently grim mood. If he had a frown at all, let alone one that deep, it didn't take much to figure out that something was very, very wrong.

As they waited, Cornelia glanced over at Caleb. She didn't get to see her soul-mate nearly as often as they would like. He appeared just as glad to see her as she was to see him. Will was, meanwhile, lamenting the fact that her crush, Matt Olsen, had started dating another musician named Rebecca Adams. Taranee was smiling softly at the thoughts of her last date with her beau Nigel Ashcroft. Hay Lin was frowning slightly at the fact that her "relationship" with Eric Lyndon had never really gotten off the ground when she found him kissing another girl. Irma meanwhile, was thinking that she really needed to get a boyfriend but wasn't desperate enough to go out with Martin Tubbs.

Finally, the Oracle focussed on the young women before him.

"Guardians" he intoned. "A dire situation has arrisen."

The concern and outright fear etched on his face kept even Irma from cracking a nervous joke. Her mouth suddenly dry, Will stepped foward.

"W-what is it sir?" she asked, fear and uncertainty evident in her voice and posture.

The Oracle sighed deeply.

"In order for you to trully understand the scope of the current crisis, it will be neccessary for me to lay a great deal of history before you. Please sit and observe."

Cushions were brought in for the Guardians as a great disc of shimmering air appeared before them. As they sat down, images from the distant past came to life. Silently, and with brows furrowed, the girls watched as the events between a corrupt corperation known as Shinra and the rebel group Avalanche played out. They gasped in horror at the revelation of Jenova, wept quietly as Cloud laid Aerith to rest, and smiled at the victory over Sepheroth and the planets healing. They then watched the events which followed three years later involving the remnants of Sepheroth. They muttered to each other with worry over the children infected with the geostigma, gritted their teeth at Sepheroth's return and sighed with relief as Cloud rose from the pool and healed Denzel of the dreaded disease.

"Incredible" Hay Lin wispered.

The others could only nod in agreement.

"Now I realize that this has been a long tale already,"The Oracle said. "Yet it is only the first half of the story."

For the next two hours, the Oracle told them all about the Wizarding World. To say the girls were shocked would be a severe understatement. An entire magical culture existed on Earth without their knowledge. A culture with their own schools, shops, and Governments within every country in the world. They learned all about the triumphs and tragedys, heroes, villians, glory and shame.The first and current wars against Voldemort were laid out in excruciating detail. The Guardians were soon scowling at the accepted bigotrys of the wizarding public. The prejudice against muggle-borns and magical creatures was repugnant to them. They were also confused at the lack of social and productive innovation. They listened spellbound ( no pun intended ) and with a growing dismay to the full story of the Boy Who Lived. Once finished, the Oracle waited a few moments as the Guardians expressed their displeasure of the Wizarding World.

"Now," he began, as they settled down once more. "The connection between these two stories lies in three simple, yet highly unlikely facts. One: Tom Riddle is the last remaining descendant of a remnant of Sepheroth. ( Collective gasp from the girls ). Two: Harry Potter is the last remaining descendant of Cloud Strife and Tifa Lockheart. ( Romantic smiles, raised eye-brows, or frowns of worry ). Three: Riddle has acquired clues that could lead him to recover several remaining pieces of Jenova."

Faces now deathly pale, the girls glanced worridly at one another.

"How can we help sir?" Taranee asked, her dark skin now shiny with a nervous sweat. "If what you say is true, only Harry Potter has the power to defeat Voldemort. And he has been imprisoned falsely on Voldemort's orders."

"Yeah," Hay Lin spoke up."If we don't do something quick, their going to execute him!"

"It gets worse, my young friends. There was one thing I have not yet mentioned. Observe."

Once more the shimmering disc of air appeared. This time, however, it did not show a scene of the distant past. This time, it showed a dark, dank primative prison cell and the torn and mutilated figure within.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" Irma shouted. "How could they do that to him?"

Irma's father was a police sergeant who was well known to possess a strong sense of justice. It was no surprise that she had picked up on his attitude. The sight of Harry's undeserved torment had yanked it out of her. The callous cruelty of the Wizarding World had severly shaken them all. Hay Lin and Cornelia were now crying openly. Taranee was staring in shocked confusion. Irma was shaking with anger and grief. And Will...

Will gaped. "Oh my God! It's HIM'. She knew him! But how? She had never even laid eyes on him before this moment. Never heard his name before this day. Yet his hair, his scar, even in his current state, she could recognize him perfectly. It was as though his every feature were ingraved into her soul. Only in her dreams did she ever...'Is it possible? Is he my...' Stumbling foward, she reached out to gently touch the image.

"Will, whats wrong?" Cornelia asked, confused and concerned about her friend.

"I know him" she replied, never taking her eyes from the boy.

"What, how?" Cornelia gasped, now very concerned.

"The same way you knew Caleb when two you first met" Will now looked back at her friends.

The entire Congregation of Candricar began to murmer softly to each other, surprised at this new development.

As Will's friends stared at her in wonder, the Oracle digested this new grain of information carefully.

"It is a possability" he began slowly. "Likely even. As Cornelia and Calebs souls resonate to one another in response to their connection, it is possible that your's is begining to respond to Harry."

As the other Guardians were wide-eyed in astonishment, Will ground her teeth in barely supressed rage.

"How do we help him?" she demanded. "How do we get him out of Azkaban?"

"Unfortunately, the various magical protection and alarm wards cast upon the prison make it severely dangerous at best to use the Heart of Candricar to open a portal into or around the complex. There is only one chance to do this. One month from now, Harry Potter is slated to be publically executed in the village of Hogsmead, a short distance from Hogwarts. He will be transported there from just outside the Azkaban wards by means of a portkey along with at least three guards. Once they arrive, they will be surrounded by several units of aurors in order to maintain crowd controll. The only chance you have to free him is when they bring him up to the...chopping..block to remove his...head. However, your skills are not enough to do this alone. For this mission and for the upcoming war, you will need to recruit some help."

Handing Will a scroll, the Oracle continued.

"Upon this scroll, you will find the names, pictures, and stories of the greatest young heroes in the world. These are people who have faced great peril and hardship in their short lives. Take and study it for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, you will begin your mission. While you do this, tonight, I will contact Harry and explain the situation to him. Will, please hand me the Heart of Candracar for a moment."

Will gently removed the ancient pendant from her neck and reverently placed it in the Oracle's palm. Cupping it in both hands, his face took on a look of utmost concentration. A soft, white glow emenated from it's depths for a few moments before fading.

"Now you will be able to display the histories you have just seen to those you must speak to." he explained as he handed the heart back to it's Keeper. Bowing slightly, Will backed away as she donned the Heart once more. Once she reached her friends, she opened the scroll.

"Hey!" Will grinned as she looked back to the Oracle. "Elyon and Caleb are on this list!"

"Yes, they will be needed." The Oracle smiled softly. "Queen Elyon would make an excellent ally, as you can access Meridian at any time it would make a much needed refuge in case of an emergency, with the young queen's permission, of course. As for Caleb, his experiances as a rebel leader will prove vital to the group. He has also begun to develop some rather unexpected abilities. Caleb, would you please demonstrate for the ladies?"

Stepping forward hesitantly, Caleb extended his right hand. A moment later, a shimmering blade of energy appeared in his hand. With a look of concentration on his face, Caleb extended it into a broadsword. Now slack-jawed, the Guardians turned to look back at the Oracle.

"Caleb has become what is known as a soulknife." The Oracle explained. "It is a type of psionic class that excells in combat. Psionics are the pure powers of the mind as opposed to magic which relies on an external source of energy. Psions, as most people who possess such powers are known, vary widely in specialties and temperments. Upon the scroll, you will find other psions, as well as those with magical powers, martial arts, technical skills, or other various usefull abilities. Do not dismiss those without magic as harmless, lest you be caught unawares. Remember, the true goal of this mission is not only to stop Tom Riddle, but to provide an understanding and a middle ground between many types of peoples, both human and otherwise. We have a chance to make the Earth a place of peace and great beauty, where all can be welcome."

As they nodded in understanding, Will clenched her fist in determination. They would not fail, she swore. They would not fail the world. They would not fail Harry!

Well, thats it for chapter one. I hope you liked it. Please be gentle in reviewing as I am a Fanfic Virgin. This is the first I have ever written.