Hey everybody! Sorry I've been gone for so long! And I know I shouldn't be making a new story but... I couldn't help myself!

I've been gone for so long 'cause I was sick for three weeks, then I was better for like a week, and now I'm sick again and who knows how long I'll be sick this time, plus there was the holidays... But anyways, I'm feeling much better than what I was feeling last time I was sick, so I'll be writing a lot more and getting more chapters out sooner!

So anyways, I hope everyone likes this story as well as everyone has liked my other ones! This one had been stuck on my mind for ages now, so I've started writing it!

Expect more chapters for this and my other stories too!

~Snow.

I don't own Harry Potter or Final Fantasy!

'You'll be… My living legacy…'

Zack Fair reached up and clasped the back of Cloud's head lightly, pulling the spiky-haired blonde boy's head down to touch his chest as he spoke quietly as rain poured down as the black-haired man bled out from the many bullet wounds he sustained from the Shinra Troops.

Zack's left arm fell to his side and Cloud slowly raised his upper body to look down at his dying best friend again, blue eyes meeting blue.

As Zack glanced to the side.

'My honor, my dreams… They're yours now…'

Zack reached out and gripped the large broadsword next to him with his left hand, taking a breath he held the Buster Sword up to Cloud, who looked at him in what seemed to be disbelief as Cloud slowly reached out and gripped the handle of the Buster Sword in both hands.

"I'm… Your, living… Legacy…" Cloud said quietly.

Zack smiled and closed his eyes, his arm dropping to his side as he heard Cloud's pain filled scream. And the rain stopped pouring as the clouds cleared away and sunlight streamed from the sky.

'Embrace your dreams. If you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams.'

"Thank you…" Zack heard Cloud's soft whisper, and doubted that if he hadn't had his heightened hearing, that he would've missed it. "I won't forget." Cloud said a bit louder, slowly standing up, clutching the Buster Sword in his left hand. Cloud stood in silence for a moment before he spoke again. "Good night…" Cloud turned away from the body of his best friend, pausing for a moment before saying just one more word. "Zack."

With that, Cloud gripped the Buster Sword with both hands again, having to drag it as he walked away, the wind blowing gently, brushing against the body of Zack Fair.

'That girl… She said that the sky frightened her.'

Zack's thoughts drifted to Aerith for a moment before he banished them.

'That looks so… Liberating.'

Zack smiled weakly as he listened as his heart started beating their last few beats, and as he opened his eyes again he watched as bright, white feathers started to fall as the Lifestream hovered above him and his mentor, Angeal, reached out for his hand.

'Those wings… I want them too…'

He reached out his own hand, his fingers just mere inches from Angeal's when he felt something else… Almost like a tug, pull him away from Angeal and his (And Angeal's) eyes widened in surprise as bright, blue flames engulfed him and the next moment Zack felt like he was being held underwater, he couldn't breath, he couldn't see, he couldn't move.

Then his back hit what felt like cold stone and he could see again, bright stars and the sky seemed above him, but it couldn't be possible, the faint sounds he heard were clearly from what seemed like inside a building. Zack coughed up blood and took a shaky breath as the silence that had filled the room was broken by several people… Kids… Screaming and yelling in shock and horror.

The last thing Zack saw before the darkness took him, was the faces of two people, one seemingly a very old man with a long, silvery-white beard, and the nervous face of an older woman, who had some long, straight stick pointing at him and was saying something that Zack couldn't hear as everything went black.

Albus Dumbledore stared down at the young man laying in the Hospital Wing bed in surprise. Was this the child that was supposed to be their savior?

That fated night, thirteen years ago, that night when Voldemort attacked the Potter's house, killing Lily and James, but leaving young Harry, who'd only been eighteen months old that night, alive, but with a lightning bolt scar. Dumbledore had left the boy on the doorstep of Petunia Dursley, Harry's maternal Aunt, late that night, and had gone back to check up on the child a few months later. That was when he found out that Petunia, who hadn't been pleased to see him, didn't have the child, and that she hadn't found the baby on her doorstep.

The next few years had followed with frantic searches for the Boy-Who-Lived, though nothing had turned up, Harry hadn't been found, and the Wizarding World had to declare that he was dead.

But now… Thirteen years later, his name had popped out of the Goblet of Fire, and this man had followed shortly, being brought by the Goblet's blue flames, torn and bleeding, shot and dying.

Albus shuddered at the reminder of the night before, when the man had turned up. He for one, had been very shocked to see a young man, looking no older than his late teens to his early twenties, falling and hitting the stone floor of the Great Hall, right in front of the Goblet for everyone to see, blood seeping out of his body at a fast rate, bullet wounds covering the front of his body, his dark hair matted with dried blood and dirt and his forehead covered with blood.

Poppy had leapt to her feet the second that she had seen the young man, firing every healing spell that she could think of, trying to save the man's life, succeeding, but only just.

Albus sighed quietly and looked the young man over again, a frown playing on the edges of the old man's lips. The Boy-Who-Lived, should only be fourteen, so why was this man at least in his twenties?

Though, he couldn't really complain too much, the man looked the image of a savior, of a hero.

He had yet to have seen the boy's eyes, and the scar was gone, but the young man looked very fit, muscles obvious as the sleeveless, gray turtleneck hugged the upper body, black cargo pants reached the bottom of the man's tall frame, just brushing the top of his feet, covered by black combat boots. Dark shoulder guards had been removed, just like the combat boots, and were sitting on the bed beside the man's along with his clothes that he had come in. Albus noted the dark hair was pulled back into many long spikes that would hang down, with only one spike hanging as a bang. The man had lightly, very lightly, tanned skin, which confused Albus, but he would just ask the man after he woke up why his skin was like that.

Though, the man did have a scar, not the lightning bolt one that made the boy famous, no… This scar was an X shape and rested on the man's lower left cheek, not the forehead.

Poppy had told Albus, that if she hadn't been so quick, healing the man and forcing the out-cold boy to drink blood-replenishing potions that Severus had given them moments later, that the boy would've died on the spot. She had been horrified to see so many bullets come out of the boy's body, wondering what had ever happened to the poor man to cause something this bad.

Poppy had the House-Elves clean and mend the boy's clothes that night, magically changing the boy's clothes to something more comfortable, and after giving the man a thorough scan, noticing something… Un-normal in the man's blood, but knowing that, since she didn't know what it was, it would be unwise to try to remove it, and would wait to question the man to figure out if he knew what it was, or even if he knew it was there.

She tucked him into the bed, and refused to let anyone in her ward while the boy was healing, besides Dumbledore, of course.

Though, he hadn't been able to check on the boy until that morning, after dealing with Madame Maxime and Karkaroff, telling them what happened, and trying to explain that even he didn't really understood what happened, but allowed the other two Headmasters to be in the questioning when the man woke up.

Madame Maxime and Karkaroff had taken their Champions back to their housing. A beautiful girl that Albus had no doubt had some Veela in her, named Fleur Delacour, and a famous Quidditch Seeker named Viktor Krum.

Albus had turned towards Hogwart's own Champion, a seventh-year named Cedric Diggory who shown promise in his classes, and in Quidditch, and had congratulated the boy before sending him off as well.

"How is he doing, Poppy?" Albus pulled himself away from his thoughts to face the Nurse as she walked over.

"He's healing at a shocking rate, Albus. I've never seen anything like it in my years as a nurse." She told him truthfully. "I don't know when he'll awaken… But it shouldn't be too long now, I hope… He was really close to death, and Merlin only knows what he's been through to come here looking like that." The Nurse frowned. "He'll be confused at first, and he doesn't know us… But oh Albus, is he really Harry Potter? He looks nothing like Lily and James, minus his hair color and its near untamable likeness…" She murmured.

"We will have to wait and see, and do a few tests of our own, after he wakes up." The Headmaster told her, his attention being captured again just moments after he spoke, by the man in the bed as the man moved, to Albus' amusement, hugging the pillow that his head was resting on, before his eyes opened, and Albus was able to see the sky-blue color before the man sat straight up, surprising the Headmaster and Nurse as his eyes widened and his hair whipped around as he looked around quickly before the sky-blue eyes focused in on Albus and Poppy, and the man spoke, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Uh… Excuse me… But… Where am I?"

And that's the chapter! Hope everyone liked it!

So, please Read and Review! I live off of reviews!
And maybe Favorite and Follow~?

~Snow.