A/N: Hello dear readers! Part of this beginning may seem familiar. Familiar in a strange odd way. Familiar perhaps… You've seen it before? I'll admit, some of this chapter is taken from RR, but I'm adding to it

This can also be seen as a sequel to Parallels if any of you guys read that one

This starts out rather similar, but it's going to change from this point on. One primary change, and the benefit of making this an actual story, is that I can flesh out the characters a bit and things that were only implied in the background

Published: 11/10/2017

Warnings: Violence, Spoilers, and Language

Chapter 1

Remembrance

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was not pleased.

He was not pleased at all.

Grimmjow was the King! He was the most powerful of the Espada! He was superior! Out of them all, Grimmjow knew that his strength surpassed that of the others. And, with Aizen out of the picture, Grimmjow knew that there was now no limit to his potential. The only one who could possibly have stood in his way was Tier Harribel, but now… Now…

"BOY! THAT BETTER NOT BE THE BACON I SMELL BURNING!"

Reduced to this.

Grimmjow was a being that fed on destruction. That was what he was, what he had always been. Chaos and ruin were his game. Grimmjow knew in his heart that a being like him could never create. He wasn't built for that. He had hardly batted an eyelash when his Numeros had fallen in combat.

So what if they had been with him for centuries?

So what if he had protected them and ruled over them since before Kurosaki's grandparents were even born?

So what if he had been with them since he was on the verge of becoming a Vasto Lord, so what, so what, so what! Grimmjow didn't care. They were gone. He had survived. The strong always survived. That was the way of Hueco Mundo.

And, Grimmjow was strong.

He had survived the Fall of Hueco Mundo. While Harribel had been enchained by the Quincy, Grimmjow had spent years training for his rematch- he would show Kurosaki which one of them was truly superior. And, Grimmjow had grown more powerful in that time, strong enough to crush that annoying human Soul Reaper Arrancar hybrid- just what in the wild hell was Kurosaki anyways?

"BOY!"

Right. It no longer mattered.

It no longer mattered that Grimmjow had probably one of the most powerful beings to ever grace the world with his presence. For, you see, Grimmjow, along with that annoying hat wearing cane wielding con man, Urahara, and his pet kitty Yoruichi, had all fallen before one of Yhwach's Quincy bastards. On the bright side, they'd taken Le Vaar down with them.

How a Quincy managed to match not only Grimmjow, but two former Taichos of the Gotei 13 at the same time was beyond Grimmjow. However, if there is anything Grimmjow can appreciate, it's power. Normally, dying at the hands of such an opponent wouldn't be so bad, if it wasn't for two tiny little details.

That fucking bastard cheated, and Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, the mighty Sexta Espada, had been reduced to… To… To…

"BOY!"

Grimmjow was spun around.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT, BOY!" Grimmjow's new uncle, if that man could be called as such, pointed wildly at the burned bacon.

Grimmjow glared.

"I'M THREE YOU FAT FUCKIN' PIECE OF LARD SHIT!"

The resonating smack knocked Grimmjow to his knees.

This… This he would never forgive. He could forgive everything else, but this right here? Grimmjow shook. This… degrading… someone would pay. Grimmjow would make them pay. He was going to destroy. Destroy, destroy, destroy!

"You disgusting little cretin! We took you in, bathed you clothed you! You should show us the respect we deserve and pull your weight around this place, freak!"

Grimmjow's head snapped up. Barring his teeth, the child glared and was satisfied when his so called Uncle flinched back. Another blow came, however, and Grimmjow's head knocked into the ground, hard, rendering him unconscious.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's had been reborn into this life as Harry Potter. That in itself he did not mind. However… Once he found the fucker that sealed his powers, and Grimmjow could tell his power had been sealed, he would slaughter them. Tear into them with his teeth, slice into them with Pantera.

After killing the Dursley's, of course. Considering his treatment, Grimmjow was confident none of them would make it to the Soul Society or even to Hueco Mundo. They would drown in the darkness, they would be dragged straight down into Hell itself.

What Grimmjow did not know was this.

Had he not been reborn as Harry Potter, Harry would have still suffered the same abuse he had. But, Harry had been different. Harry had been a scared little boy. Harry had realized that he needed to survive. Harry had been crafty. He had appealed to whatever better nature his relatives had. Grimmjow was no child. He was a warrior, a fighter, and he refused to give ground. Grimmjow was Ichigo Kurosaki without motives, without friends to hold him back, without something precious tying him down. As such, Grimmjow had rebelled. He had fought back. Each blow he returned, eyes wild with rage. They thought they could crush him? Grimmjow would break them!

Grimmjow had lost it all, and he was a wounded beast. He had lost everything, and his response was simply.

Destroy, destroy, destroy!

Hidden in the recess of Grimmjow's mind and soul, Eren Jaeger watched on with a slight eye twitch. So, this is what all that hatred and ranting about how he was going to kill them all got him in the end. Huh. At least it wiped out the Titans.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Eren Jaeger. Harry Potter. For whatever the hell reason, memories kept transcending from one life to the next. Grimmjow knew he was a goddamn anomaly.

Or rather, Eren knew. Eren or Grimmjow? Grimmjow or Harry? It was all getting way too fucking confusing and Grimmjow honestly didn't wanna deal with it.

And, of course, there was now this little fucking twist because life and existence could not be fucking normal.

"We've been… Alive isn't the right word, actually. We've existed too long. Yeah, that's it. Is this any surprise?"

Grimmjow twitched. The source of his annoyance stood before him. If one was to get technical, it was the teen before him that had been reincarnated as Harry, not him. After all, reincarnation is rebirth and Grimmjow had never truly been alive.

He was a fucking ghost. A spirit. An extremely badass and awesome spirit, mind you, but a spirit nonetheless. Still, he hadn't expected this.

"So… We're separate now?"

Eren Jeager merely shrugged in response.

"Nah. We've just reached the necessary insanity where we talk to ourselves and our mind is kinda splinteredish. Think of it as… Hm. Fractured, but whole. The longer we exist, the worse I'm guessing it'll get?"

He sounded confused, as if he wasn't sure what exactly they had gotten themselves into. Grimmjow swore.

Ah yes. Because that painted such a lovely picture for their sanity.

Remembering a past life comes in glimpses and shards and it's really fucking confusing. One moment, you see the world for what it is before something catches your eye. Doesn't after what it is. It could be unimportant. It could be something minimal. Something that doesn't matter at all, really.

What matters is not the object that catches your attention, but where it draws your focus. Or rather, when.

"Please complete these surveys to the best of your abilities." the teacher stated.

Grimmjow stared. And stared. The world around him seemed to freeze. Nothing around him mattered. Nothing around him existed. This world wasn't real. This page wasn't real. All of this was just an illusion, because Grimmjow could remember true reality now with startling clarity.

One of the Bobby's had to be called in when Grimmjow went on a wild rampage, blank look in his eyes, attacking every adult on sight because, obviously, they were Kyojins.

When Grimmjow died, it was a fucking disgrace. There is no other way to put it. It had been a goddamn disgrace. To fall at the hands of a Quincy was beyond lunacy. His only solace was the fact that that fool Urahara and that wanna be feline Yoruichi had both fallen with him.

The two of them, along with Isshin Kurosaki had, after all, fared a hundred times better against Aizen then half the Soul Society's power combined.

His eyes boiled with rage as the memory struck him. It wasn't so much because he had died, no. Grimmjow actually found he cared little about that. The fuck does death matter when Grimmjow was apparently cursed to remember anyways?

No… What pissed him the fuck off was Zaraki.

That bastard took his sister. Murdered her while all hell was raining down upon the, while the goddamn word was ending because he wanted to. Because he wanted to prove himself stronger. Because of such a stupid reason like that, he had… He had…

If Kenpachi was alive in this world, then Grimmjow would make it his personal mission to kill him. Wipe him out from the face of the universe.

Ulquiorra had been right. Humans are trash, and Kenpachi was the worst.

When the letters first started coming, Grimmjow didn't see any of them at all. In fact, he wasn't aware they existed at all. For, you see, Grimmjow was… A wild child, to put it mildly. Even Vernon, despite being several times Grimmjow's size, struggled to keep the child down whenever Grimmjow decided he'd have a little fun.

It was a miracle he hadn't winded up in a Juvenile Detention Center, actually. He had once beat the shit out of a couple of the Bobby's, though. That had been fun.

As it was, Grimmjow's violent tendencies resulted in many changes Harry would not have experienced. One such change was… Grimmjow had his own bedroom, much to Dudley's chargrim. Oh, sure, it had bars and there was a bloody fucking cat flap were Grimmjow received his 'meals', but whatever.

However, because Grimmjow was basically kept prisoner to prevent him from literally tearing up the neighborhood, Grimmjow never received his Hogwarts letter.

Albus Dumbledore frowned.

This would not do. This would not do at all. He needed Harry Potter to come to Hogwarts, and his lack of response meant one thing. Petunia was acting as he had predicted. She was attempting to keep the child from the magic she so feared. Dumbledore knew that woman was terrified of magic, and he knew that such vivid fear often turns to hatred, but he had placed young Harry there anyways. Better an ignorant child then a self centered and over confident one.

However, there was one major issue.

Dumbledore remembered the night of the Potter's assassination. When he had received the child from Hagrid, Dumbledore had been surprised by the amount of spiritual power Harry had exhibited. It matched even his own! Dumbledore had been forced to suppress said power. It had been the only choice, really. Had he acted differently, he had no doubt young Harry would have burned out his magical core. Perhaps this spike in spiritual energy was what prevented Voldemort from killing him? Dumbledore could only guess.

As it was, Harry had tremendous amount of spiritual power that was locked away within his body. Dumbledore was a cautious man. He knew that powerful emotions could shatter away even the strongest of seals. Sending Hagrid, therefore, would be foolish. Should young Harry unleash the magic Dumbledore had chained away, the backlash could potentially be felt on the other side of the planet.

Because of that, there was only one choice. However, Dumbledore knew this really wasn't going to go over well. Regardless, he had little choice in the matter.

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiled, elbows on his desk and fingers crossed as he looked up.

"Ah, yes Severus. Please have a seat. There is much we must discuss."

Severus Snape was angry. He was furious. He was completely and utterly disgusted.

How dare that old fool? Who did he think he was, forcing Snape to do this? Had anyone else demanded it, Snape would have cursed them on the spot. As it was, Snape owed his current status as a non Azkaban resident to the Headmaster, so he had little choice but to obey the will of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Bah. Too many bloody names.

Snape walked forth and knocked. Patiently, he waited as he heard the Dursley's scutter behind the door. Snape glared. He did not have all day! He had things to do!

The door swung open.

"Hello? Pleased to meet you, Mr- YOU! Begone!"

Ah. So Petunia did recognize him. Wonderful. Snape caught the door as she attempted to slam it in his face.

"I've come to give the boy his letter, Petunia. You know, the one you should have already given him."

"We swore when we took him in that there would be no unnaturalism in this house! And, we succeeded!" Petunia smirked at him. Snape felt his blood turn cold. "Beat it out him, my Vernon did! His eyes used to glow blue, you know! That wretched magic," Petunia spat, "But Vernon set him straight! Of course, it turned him into a violent little hooligan, but at least he isn't one of those freaks like-"

Snape had had enough.

With a wave of his wand, Petunia was knocked backwards. Snarling, Snape stomped into the house.

"What is this? You are breaking and entering, s-"

Vernon didn't get to finish. He was bound and silenced with a wave of Snape's wand.

"Dad? Dad? WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DADDY AND MY MUMMY!"

The child would have wailed more had Snape not silenced him as well. Snape grabbed the child by the chin and forced him to look at his eyes. "Sleep, boy." Dudley fought it. He truly did. But, it was of no use. His eyes shuttered close and he fell to the ground without a sound. Then, Snape waved his wand once more. Upstairs. Potter was upstairs. Leaving the Dursley's behind, Snape began to storm his way up the stairs.

Beat the magic out of Lily's son? Snape was furious. If it was true, oaths be damned, he would kill Albus Dumbledore himself, he would strike down the so called most powerful sorcerer of their age, he-

The door to Potter's room exploded in a mess of splinters. Snape covered his eyes in surprise, and it cost him as a tiny body collided with his own and shoved him over the stairs. Snape spun and, had he not been a wizard, he was sure he would have broken a leg. The Dursleys sat off to the side, staring with wide eyes. Snape glared up the stairs, were a young Harry Potter- had the boy dyed his blasted hair blue?- stood before the remains of the door.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, batface, but yah chose the wrong house to fuckin' mug!"

Screw it. Snape was going to kill Dumbledore, period, for making him put up with all this shit in the first place.