Disclaimer: All rights reserved.

This is a reincarnation/do-it-again fic, starting with the deaths of the elder two Ren brothers in the fire. I'm having the elder two die at the time, Hakuei when Baba is involved, and Hakuryuu during when he fought Arba. (only personality traits or the like are passed on/shown in the next life)

Hakuyuu Ren - Theodore Nott
Hakuren Ren - Draco Lucius Malfoy
Hakuei Ren - Neville Francis Longbottom
Hakuryuu Ren - Harry James Potter

Other characters will appear as well. This is majorly AU for the following reason and a half: those with Djinn Equips are Gods, to some extent; Aladdin rewrote the Will of the world (but it's still under Solomon's Will). Alibaba in particular will be the Zeus of them all. However, none of these people will come into play actively for a long while.

The arcs will be per year. Meaning, seven arcs for seven years.

[Please skip to the bottom A/N before reading.]

Warnings (overall): Child abuse, child endangerment, PTSD, blood, gore, lots of fire

Fire

Arc 1: Hell

1. Heat

"The path to Hell is paved with good intentions."
~ Saint Bernard of Clairvaux

He realized who he really was, at least before, when Petunia had him cook for the first time with no proper instructions aside from a messily and hastily written note. It only said one hundred fifty degrees, flip after one, two. Nothing more. He was six.

He may be smarter than given credit, being able to read between the lines, but he wasn't that knowledgeable.

He would be going to primary school soon, or so his relatives say. He didn't believe them. Far as he was aware, his name was Freak or Boy. It's because of this that he's trusting his gut that he wouldn't get any proper human interaction anytime soon.

He's also trusting his gut when it says to not bloody cook when you can barely reach the knob even with a stool.

But alas, he'll get beaten otherwise, and he really hates that. He figures he should try just so he can say so, even if everything got burnt for dinner.

Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley were in the living room and packed on the couch, laughing obnoxiously loud at something on the television. It was grating, he was irritated, he was six, he was too damn short, it's no wonder that the day ended how it did.

He must've put the wrong seasoning or whatever on the chicken, he knew it was burnt barely thirty minutes in cooking. Internally cursing, something he learned from Vernon (not that he would ever say it), he opened the oven. He thought about turning it off, but it would take at least a full minute, maybe two, and he'd rather get a bunch of steam in his face then risk burning himself by landing on the metal above.

The door pulled down with some struggle, he only had a second to eye the bright blazing fire before it seemingly erupted. The sudden air difference, a faint breeze, or something had the flames move towards him. He was in shock, he was worried, he was still irritated, and he was scared at the images that are appearing in his head while he screams on the floor, face and body on fire.

The fire was eventually put out, once firemen had been called over (he left the window open, having a feeling he would burn the food), and he was put into an ambulance soon after, still screaming his head off and crying.

His name was Hakuryuu, his body was scarred to Hell once more, and he had been the last surviving member of his family.

Neville was a kind, quiet child. He never got on anyone's nerves, and he had a habit to tend to the greenhouses more often than not.

Well, never would be incorrect. At least, where magic is concerned. His grandmother and uncle were positively mad at his lack of accidental magic. At first the two adults thought that Neville was a late bloomer, and that he'd be stronger than most wizards. But then he became six and he hasn't done anything.

His uncle likes to throw him around. He'd be flying, about to hit a wall, and his deeply hidden magic trickles out to ease the landing. It was only recently, a month later, when he had his first bout of accidental magic. It was the strongest they've seen.

His uncle had locked him in a tiny room, bolted the window shut, set the curtains aflame, and shut the door before deadlocking it. The Unspeakable, on his way out, tossed around some cloth and set those on fire as well.

Neville was sweating, the room was muggy beyond belief, his eyes stung from the smoke and the brightness, and he was terrified. To his credit, he wasn't crying yet.

He scrambled to the door, pounding on it with his fists surprisingly hard for a child.

"Let me out!" he roared. "Let me out! Stop trying to kill me!"

He never received an answer. Neville spun around, gasping involuntarily when heat licked at his bare neck, and eyed the window. This was the second floor of the manor, and while it may be locked from the outside, glass is glass.

He ran across the short distance, yelping when the back of his hand hit something, crying out when a increasingly blinding hot ember landed on his cheek. The pain made an invisible cut to his jaw, and another through his right eyebrow.

Neville only coughed heavily and rammed his shoulder into the glass. All but a single strip of the curtains had already fallen by that time, and he screamed when the last piece of cotton fell around his neck. It burnt a hole through his shirt too quickly, marring the skin of his upper back as it fell, as well as his shoulders. He eventually just tossed it off him, earning mid-first degree burns on his hands in result.

With one last, albeit weak, ram to the glass, it shattered with a strong burst of wind, cutting into the wall, and he jumped out of it, falling and landing in - green?

Oh. Neville blinked through the adrenaline in him, realizing that he had landed in his Devil's Snare plant he kept there. Relief came over him like a tidal wave, and he sobbed in earnest until it turned pained, finally feeling the damage done to him.

Magical means may be able to heal normal wounds, but it cannot heal magical ones. At least not as of the current year.

His name was Hakuei, at some point, and he remembers dying while thinking of her little brother.

The scion of the Malfoy family was, living to his name, enamored with dragons. Young Draco used to run around the manor pretending to be a Chinese Fireball, or Hungarian Horntail, or even an Ukrainian Ironbelly, much to his parent's never ending amusement.

His father even gave him, on his sixth birthday, an enchanted stuffed dragon that breathed out tiny flames! Of course, Draco couldn't get hurt by it, but he could still feel the heat of the flames being spat.

He was in the family room with his parents, they on either side of the coffee table watching him, talking about nonsensical adult stuff that Draco frankly didn't care about. He himself was sitting on the fluffy red rug in front of the fireplace, currently lit, toy dragon in his grasp.

Draco shifted to lean against the bricks that made up the fireplace, dragon facing him and the lit logs (his mother believed in the old fashioned way), when he squeezed the paw. The maw of the blue dragon opened, eyes a bright silver, and begun to spit the flames it was enchanted with. The child giggled, teetered over due to his laughter, and the flames met the inside of the fireplace.

The fire blazed heavily before lashing out, the magic in both clashing, and it struck Draco on the underside of his chin due to where he lay. He cried out, and his parents immediately put out the fire.

For the next few days, Draco would be inconsolable, but not for the reason his parents thought. Snippets of someone he knew to be his elder brother yelling would fill his dreams, heat would stay with him even after he woke up drenched in a room with all the cooling charms possible.

He wasn't Hakuren any longer, he perished before his big brother, and he couldn't figure out why they were running from her.

His family was made up of lone wolves. They hardly interacted with one another, and when they did, it was only for the necessities.

Theodore didn't like his family. He craved the attention he was denied, and so often sneaked off into the forest surrounding his family's property to choose a silence for himself.

He has the uncanny feeling that he used to be surrounded by noise, peaceful or loud or something else.

The property was heavily warded, so magic could freely be used by minors without repercussion from the Ministry. Theodore, when he had next left for the forest, nabbed his mother's spare wand. She knew what he was doing, and she didn't mind so long as the wand was given back when he was done with it. He wished she would worry more, that she was genuine.

He climbed upon a boulder, trees to his back and sides, dirt road free from grass in front. He was a bit of a pyromaniac, but he knew where to draw the line. Forest fires were not on his bucket list, thank you very much.

He twisted his wrist, "Incendio," and a small stream of orange flames spewed out. He smiled and slowly dragged the wand in figure eights or whatever other thing he could think of, eyes locked onto the after glow, blinking away the spots of his vision.

It was only when he added a bit more power when it grew too bright. He tried to lower it, but he wasn't that experienced. He was a six year old, albeit one of the most magically gifted of his generation of Purebloods. It sapped at his small magic stores, and with one more tug, he felt it drain him near dry.

Theodore fell back and tossed the wand, the flames cutting off a second after his hand had released the wood. He breathed heavily, exhausted, but his eyes widened at the lit bark on the tree next to him. It was too close for his damn liking - Theodore snatched the wand and preformed the only other spell he knew, aquamenti, but he had stumbled in his haste.

The child's forehead had fallen close enough for the flames to lick deeply at his skin before they were put out. The damage done, the pain growing, Theodore fell to his knees staring at nothing.

Horror, anger, must save them, escape, worry, Mother are you alright?, No Hakuryuu we must leave, I'm sorry, hatred, grief, Hakuren!, anguish, blood, warmth, heat, Hakuryuu you must live!, blackness, fire.

He wasn't Hakuyuu anymore, and he has to find his family before the witch does.

1991, September First

They met at Kings Cross.

Neville, as his grandmother refused to accompany him further, bid him farewell at the muggle station. Harry had simply been dropped off before Vernon sped away. Theodore was apparated in. Draco was the only one whose family had stayed.

Theodore saw a too small black haired child facing the pillar where a redheaded family just passed through. He stepped forward, joining Draco since they were friends, spotted Neville as he skittered past them, and the trio froze once seeing the face of the kid.

The left side of his face was scarred akin to that of a blast mark, that eye a dull and pale blue, the right a vibrant green. He had a mole at the left corner of his mouth like the rest did, and the top half of his hair was pulled into a tight bun.

Draco's parents are aware, after a few weeks of sorting his memories, of their son's previous life. They were understandably horrified at how his life had ended with his elder brother and promised to aid the rest of his past lives siblings if allowed. They hadn't expected to meet them all at once while getting Draco to the Hogwarts Express, but they weren't complaining.

"Hakuryuu!" Theodore gasped out, rushing forward and abandoning his trolley in favor of bringing his little brother into his arms. The others quickly joined in, and while in shock at first, none of them objected after giving them a glace.

"Ha... Haku... yuu? Hakuei? Hakuren? You're all - you're - how are you-" Harry couldn't get the words out. They know what he was trying to speak.

Neville smiled sadly, carding a hand through the hair not pulled back. "Yes, we're really here, but we should speak of this away from prying eyes..." Even now muggles were staring.

Lucius and Narcissa ushered them all through (it took carrying Harry in Theodore's arms to move him since he found it so absurd to willingly walk into a wall) while the rest brought the near forgotten trolleys.

The adults helped the children get their things into an empty compartment - they all arrived at a reasonable time - before reminding Draco to write them and inviting the other three to as well before leaving.

Harry was sat next to the window, Theodore to his left. Neville was across from Harry with Draco next to him.

"When did-" Harry cleared his throat - a side affect from getting such severe burns is that his voice is raspy and he struggles to speak normally. His throat was heavily damaged - and tried again. "When did you r-remember? I was six."

They all nodded before sharing a surprised look. Neville was the one to speak next, "Well, I guess that answers that. Unless brought up, the general consensus is that the event will not be spoken of?"

"Most certainly," muttered Draco. The blonde then raises a brow in Harry's direction. "Didn't I see you before? In Diagon?"

Harry half frowned, eyebrows furrowed together. "I... think so? I was in the robe shop-"

"Madam Malkin's," Theodore corrected.

"-And I saw a blonde kid... but that's it. Never saw their, or I guess your, face." He suddenly scowled. " It would've saved us a lot of trouble if we spoken, that had to h-have been you. T-Tell me about the magical world?"

By the time they got to Hogwarts, Harry was in the full know of the houses, what to expect when being sorted, basic etiquette of Pureblood customs, and knew more about his old life's siblings.

"Wait," Neville said right before they moved to exit their compartment. "As much as school unity could be cool, there's no way I'd be willing to give any of you up to sleep in a different dorm."

They all shared a look. He had a point. They may have just met, all reincarnation put aside, but their relationship has escalated to good friends in the two hours it takes to arrive at the castle.

Theodore scoffed. "Isn't it obvious? Either we all end up in Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or we are each put into a separate house. I personally think, if we were to stick together, that we'd end up in Ravenclaw. They're neutral enough, and we all have the attributes for it."

"But on what s-scale?" Harry sighed out. Before he remembered Hakuryuu, as Harry, he just wanted to be brave and have friends. And then he was Hakuryuu and met Hagrid and was stuck between a dark gray and being brave. Now that he has his family back, he'll cling onto them with all he has, but he's more Slytherin now than anything.

"You all are qualified for Slytherin," Neville stated. "Gran may disown me, but I'm quite cunning. It just grew with remembering. How about we hear what the hat says, give our opinion, and we try to aim for the house the first one ends up in?"

They all shrugged. It was as good of a plan you could get where a sentient object is concerned.

Names cane and went, and Neville was the first to be called up. He sat on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. It blocked his view of his family.

"Oh? I didn't expect to encounter one who has lived prior to this. Only Merlin has, and I've sorted him too many times to count."

Neville raised an eyebrow. Well there's a little fun fact, he supposed.

'I'm sure you already know of what we planned, so please, enlighten me on what I have.' The hat chuckled. It caused a weird vibration on his head.

"Very well, Mr. Longbottom. You are plenty brave, both from standing your ground to your death and staying calm in the face of danger. You are very courageous and smart. You're ambitious to a respectful amount and are eternally loyal to those you trust unless otherwise. To be honest, I'm a tad torn between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff for you, both lives included.

"The mere remembering a past life, no matter how much, changes you. You say you'd rather it be with the Ravens or Snakes, so long as you're together? Since you're all so different, I guess it'll be easier done than said for once."

"Ravenclaw!"

Neville saw his brother grin at him while the appropriate table cheered. He sat down, and soon both Draco and Theodore had joined him. Harry was currently on the stool, murmurs echoing throughout the Great Hall. The trio rolled their eyes, but understood. Somehow no one had quite spotted the scarring yet, but they were sure that it'd happen soon.

"Ah, here you are Mr. Potter. Hm? So you were the last to leave, I see..." The tone turned solemn. "It's always hard to leave the world knowing that you've left your loved ones. It's even harder to move on into the unknown."

'Yes,' Harry agreed. 'But we're all together now, after so long, after so much hardship. It's better to embrace the present while remembering the past to remind you of what not to repeat, all to create more good memories.'

"You are too wise for your age, Mr. Potter. While I think Slytherin would enable you to thrive most, even as you are now, you'd do well in Ravenclaw. Albus told me to put you in Gryffindor, but while you are exceedingly brave, it isn't in the purest form like the gold on that banner."

Before Harry could think back, a feat considering the functions of a brain, he was announced a Ravenclaw and he found himself walking over to sit next to Neville. Draco was on his left, and Theodore was on Draco's other side.

Up at the staff table, Albus Dumbledore was visibly upset. His features smoothed out soon enough. But then it switched to surprise, a delayed reaction for him and everyone else in the Great Hall when they comprehended the scarred face. Loud whispers broke out, but thankfully no one tried asking.

It took no time at all for the rest of the evening to pass, and the quartet found themselves in their dorm before the night's end, four beds surrounding the furnace in the center of the circular room. They all avoided it like the plague, picking a random bed and dressing for the night.

Neville, of whom was closest to the door handle and opposite of Harry, paused after sliding his shirt on when he saw his youngest brother's movements slow. He was leaning heavily on the wooden frame above his trunk, knuckles white, head bowed. The excessive scarring covering most of the left side of his body was a bright red, clearly irritated.

Draco suddenly came up from behind with a dripping cloth - from the attached bathroom he guessed - and slapped it on Harry's back. The boy gasped loudly and his head lifted. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, sighing as his muscles slowly relaxed at the cooling sensation.

Theodore must have saw what Draco did, for he left the bathroom with more of the wet cloths, lying them over the scarring once Harry forced himself onto the bed.

"I never knew it bothered you this bad," Neville said, speaking of back when they were still Hakuei and Hakuryuu. It took a minute for Harry to respond.

"It did. Does. I take a cold bath and usually fall asleep. Remember how I always got sick?" Neville's eyebrows rose sharply. So that was the mystery behind Hakuryuu's sickness.

"So having you sit in cold water is better than this?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. "Being able to swim in cold water would be a godsend, but this is better. I can fall asleep and not-" He broke off into a yawn. "And not have to worry about getting pneumonia or something."

Theodore asked, "How long do you need to have this on?"

"Just... thirty minutes to an hour is best, considering c-" He paused to grab a spare wet rag and place it to his neck, almost groaning in relief. "S-Since classes are tomorrow, I'll be moving a lot. If any of you are willing to say up that long, could you take them off?" It was clear that he was about to nod off.

Draco snorted. "Yes, we'll stay up a little longer. Sleep well." Harry muttered something unintelligible before his soft breaths filled the room. Draco, since he was closest, released his hair from the bun it was in and the minuscule tenseness in his face was erased.

The trio piled on Neville's bed, just watching Harry, at ease know that their brother is alive, with them, and alright.

Theodore turned to Neville and raised a brow. "How are you adjusting, Hakuei?"

"What?" The elder gave him a look, and then he understood, face turning red. "I-I-It was - is - hard at first. I had a major breakdown of sorts. It's - I'm still adjusting. It's all just really confusing for me right now." He shifted where he sat. "I really wish I was just born female again, it would've save me all the trouble..."

Theodore and Draco gave him pitying smiles, but didn't envy his situation in the least. It would be one heck of a ride for them all for the next several years.

Okay, this feels like a one-shot to me. I would like some opinions, should I keep this as a one-shot, or continue it as a regular story? I've started on chapter two, but it doesn't have the same feeling as this one. The second just feels too weak.

*My fucking tabs just fucking refreshed themselves, all of them (fucking Firefox) and now all of chapter two is fucking gone.